Just a Little Luck in Our Favor
by Evanescence918
Summary: Gale lost the girl he loved. Madge lost her only friend. Mr. and Mrs. Mellark lost their youngest son. Prim lost her sister. Rye and Bran lost their younger brother. Mrs. Everdeen lost her daughter. Romance will bloom, drama will unfold, and they will watch, transfixed, as Katniss and Peeta participate in the 74th Hunger Games. This is their story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games**

****Part 1-**Gale**

Part 2- Mr. Mellark

Part 3- _Madge_

* * *

**The woods were the one place where I could be myself the one place I was I ever truly happy. Technically, my home was in District 12, the Seam to be specific. A place where the streets were crawling with starving children and the air was polluted with coal dust. But in reality, the only thing that made the Seam home was my family. It was the woods that made me feel free and comfortable and, well, myself.**

** I remember the first time my dad took me out here, when I was eight. The rush of emotions the fear, anticipation, and awe as I crossed the gate for the first time. I felt so insignificant in comparison to the vastness and seemingly endlessness of the woods. It was a foreign world, a change from the ever-the-same Seam, with only the gate as the boundary. **

** I remember following eagerly, and reverently, after my father. I wanted to be exactly like him tall, strong, and confidant. I remember marveling at the fact that he knew exactly where he was going, and didn't get lost within the massiveness of the forest. I paid rapt attention when he taught me how to make various snares and traps, and how to fish in the lake.**

** Because my father worked in the mines, our trips to the woods were not often. We went on the Sundays my father was off, and wasn't too exhausted from his week in the mines. It was always a pleasant surprise when my father woke me up early and told me to get ready. I reveled those Sundays, until one day they were taken away.**

** On the day of that fateful mining accident, I lost more than my father. I lost my innocence and childhood, as well. At only thirteen years old I became the head of my family. But when I looked at my younger brothers, Rory and Vick, and the bump on my mother's stomach that became my sister, Posy, in just a few days time, I knew that my goal would have to be achieved early and I would need to become just like my father.**

** I did whatever it took to provide for my family. For the first time, I went into the woods alone in the days following my father's departure. Remembering our lessons, I set up snares to capture squirrels or rabbits to be eaten or sold at the Hob. I submitted my name extra times in exchange for tesserae. And with the assistance of my mother's small laundry service, my family survived.**

** Now, five years later, I tread through these same woods. I walked through the forest with ease and familiarity. I knew it as well as I knew my right hand. After my father's death, the woods became, even more so, a place of solace and escape. A place where I wasn't expected to be strong, and where I could let go of the pressures of being depended on that lay on the other side of that gate.**

** I reached a spot that had become quite special to me, a rock ledge that overlooked a valley, surrounded by thick berry bushes. I pulled out a loaf of bread that I had traded a squirrel for at the Mellark's bakery. On a whim, I took an arrow from my bag and stuck it in it as a joke. Hopefully, it would bring a smile to her face. Even though it was considered a celebratory holiday, there was little to smile about. Today was the first day of the Hunger Games.**

** There was a soft sound of a footstep that interrupted the otherwise silence of the forest. Of course, the footstep was only audible to my trained ear, but to anyone else it would be soundless. I looked up to see the other reason why the woods, and this specific spot, were also special to me. Katniss Everdeen.**

** "Hey Catnip," I called. She smiled slightly at the old nickname I gave her, and I felt a distinct lump of pride that she seemed pleased to see me. Of course, she was always happy to see me. She liked me, just not in the same was I did.**

** "Look what I shot," I continued, holding up the loaf of bread. Like I had hoped, she laughed at the sight and I saw her eyes light up at the fact that this was actual baker's bread, which was rare for us.**

** She was so pretty when she laughed, though she rarely did it and never outside of the woods. She was always pretty, but especially then. He skin was soft and olive toned; her straight black hair was pulled back into her usual braid; and her eyes were gray, as was common in the Seam. We could've passed for cousins, but I thanked God, that we weren't.**

** She took the bread from my hands, pulling the bow out, and brought it to her nose. "Mm, still warm," she said, salivating, and once again I was glad that I had made her happy.**

** She asked me more about procuring the bread, before pulling out cheese from her bag that Prim gave us from her goat. "Thank you, Prim," I said, excited at the prospect of this meal. "We'll have a real feast." **

** Remembering what day it was I decided to try and make her laugh again. "I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" I said in my impression of Effie Trinket and her ridiculous capital accent.**

** I plucked a berry off a nearby bush and threw it in the air. "And may the odds "**

** She caught it in her mouth, before saying in her own capitol accent, " be ever in your favor!"**

** Although, we joked about it, it wasn't a laughing matter. There was a high probability that either of us, or both of us, could be chosen this year. Katniss had her name entered twenty times, me, forty-two. Although we both agreed that we would take care of the other's family if one of us were chosen, I honestly didn't know what I would do if she was chosen. I couldn't bear it if I lost her.**

** When I first met Katniss, she was a skinny, awkward twelve-year old. I was going through my usual rounds, when I saw her by one of my snares. At first I was surprised, frozen in my footsteps, never before encountering a person here. But I got over it, as I saw her reach up toward the rabbit that was caught in it. I now knew that she was only admiring it, but at the time I was sure she was stealing it.**

** When I approached her, I only meant to warn her off, but the mere sight of me frightened her. She jumped back in fear as she took in the sight of me, and that was when I recognized her. She was one of the other children who had lost their father in the mining accident. I knew that she had one younger sibling, a young girl with blonde hair and blue eyes that was uncommon in the Seam. That was because her mother was originally from town, and had married into the Seam. One had to be really in love to actually marry into the Seam.**

** "What's your name," I had asked her, interested in the reason she had found herself on this side of the fence.**

** She said her name so quietly, that I misheard and thought she said Catnip. And that was where my nickname for her originated. "Well, Catnip, stealing is punishable by law, or hadn't you heard?"**

** "Katniss," she corrected me, before claiming that she wasn't trying to steal from me. "I just wanted to look at your snare," she alleged, "mine never catch anything."**

_**What could this little girl possibly know about snares?**_** I couldn't help but think. Besides, I noticed what she was holding in her hand. "So where'd you get that squirrel?" I retorted. **

** "I shot it," she said, pulling a bow from her shoulder that I had not noticed before. **

** I couldn't help but gawk at it. Where could she possibly have gotten one? My father once brought one with us into the woods, and showed me how to use it. But he wasn't an expert, and I don't think the bow was even his. But it could be extremely helpful now that I was dependent on what I got in the forest. "Can I see that?" I asked.**

** She gave it to me, but retorted cleverly, "Just remember, stealing's punishable by death."**

** I couldn't help but smile. We began talking about hunting, and from that day on we formed a tentative alliance. I taught her about snares and fishing in exchange for knowledge about bows and arrows, and in time, my very own one. She taught me more about the edible plants in the woods and how to use certain leaves to my benefit.**

** Soon, we became a team, hunting partners. We looked out for each other and trusted each other completely. We shared our wealth and divided it equally among each other. We made sure that both of our families were fed and well.**

** But somewhere along the way I fell for her. I can't tell you exactly when because it snuck up on me. It happened in stages. First it was simply admiration, for her strength, determination, skills, and talent. Then, as she grew older, I realized how pretty she was and how attracted I was to her. I began to simply enjoy being around her, and the moments that I spent with her were time treasured. I found myself wanting to impress her, make her laugh; make her notice me, not just when we were hunting together. Before I knew it, I was in love with her and did not want to live without her.**

** How she felt about me was a mystery to even me.**

** As we cut the bread and spread the cheese, I couldn't help thinking about the impending Hunger Games and my feelings for Katniss. An idea that had played around in my mind more than once arose once again. A scene played in my mind of Katniss and I, together, never having to fear the Hunger Games again.**

** "We could do it, you know," I said out loud.**

** "What?" she asked.**

** "Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it."**

** I waited, anxiously for her response. An expression of her feelings for me, or at least the slightest desire of wanting to run off with me. When she didn't say anything, I regretted bringing it up at all, and making our feast awkward.**

** "If we didn't have so many kids," I amended, quickly. Which was true, of course. I would never be able to run away and leave my family to fend for themselves and we'd never be able to all run away in the woods.**

** "I never want to have kids," Katniss commented.**

** "I might. If I didn't live her." **_**If it was with you. **_

** "But you do," she said, irritated, and I found myself reciprocating the feeling. Was it that unimaginable to imagine herself with me? Was I that unappealing to her?**

** "Forget it," I said. **

** I sighed mentally, and wondered if Katniss would ever come to love me the way I loved her.**

**-HG-**

The Hunger Games drawing was always a busy time for the bakery. Since it was technically considered a holiday, people chose to celebrate it with their favorite breads and pastries. It was customary to have feasts for breakfast and dinner, so people were in and out of the shop since morning. Even those who couldn't afford the delicacies that were served here used their savings to purchase something special. For example, that boy from the Seam who hunted with Vera's daughter. I had a special spot in my heart for them, besides I do really enjoy squirrel stew. She always shoots it right in the eye, too, so as to not ruin the pelt.

The Hunger Games required me to wake up earlier and labor diligently for hours. I loved my work, and the early hours were never a problem for me, but it was always hard for this day. My mind was always elsewhere, worrying about my boys.

I carefully kneaded the dough beneath my knuckles, feeling the soft powder mold and take shape as I contemplated what might happen in just a few hours. Out of my three children, two were still eligible to be drafted into the hunger games. I don't know what I would do if that happened.

I looked beside me at my youngest son, Peeta. He was carefully icing a batch of cookies with colorful frosting of various cheerful phrases and artful designs. Peeta had such a skill and passion for baking, I had no doubt that he would take over the bakery for me when it was time for me to retire.

"Good job, son," I complemented him.

He looked up from his current design, and smiled at me. "Thanks, Dad."

"Oh, and where's my compliment?" my middle child, Bran, asked as he came through the door from the front where he was working the cashier. "I've been working like a mule all morning, I think I deserve to be appreciated."

Now, Bran, on the other hand had no passion for the baking industry. He burnt things twice as often as he perfected them. He was groggy in the mornings and hated waking up early. But I didn't hold that against him, in fact I was proud of him because of it. Because, despite his aversion to this job, he was always loyal and willing to contribute and help out when it was needed. I was proud of my son for being a good person, and talented in the things he was good at.

"I don't know about the working, but you definitely have the sounds down," Peeta retorted. "Was that snoring I heard an hour ago or was that you practicing your singing? I think it's about time you give up on that dream."

"Oh, ha ha Peeta," Bran said. "Who knew the Pillsbury Dough Boy was so funny?"

"Well, when you've got skills like me, it's pretty hard to find any faults," Peeta smirked.

"Well, if I remember correctly, someone happened to beat your wimpy little ass during the wrestling competition."

Peeta said nothing, but moved on to frost another cookie.

"Who was that again?" Bran asked rhetorically. "Do you remember or did you get beat so hard it's too dim, and painful, to remember?"

Peeta made a sound of indignation, but otherwise continued his task. "Oh yeah, I know who it was. Me."

Peeta anticipated what would happen next, and was able to put down icing bag. He didn't move fast enough, however, to keep from being unearthed by Bran who ran at Peeta and knocked him to the floor. Peeta then grabbed Bran on the way down, and attempted to pin Bran to the ground. Bran easily wriggled out of Peeta's grasp and kept him down by locking his arm above his chest.

"Give up, little bro," Bran said. "You've got no chance."

"Oh yeah?" Peeta contradicted as he flipped Bran over, resulting in a resounding thud as he hit the floor. It was then that I noticed the cookies precariously on the edge of the table.

I pushed them back and announced, "Hey guys, break it up, break it up. Get back to work."

They both stood up, brushing off their clothes, and laughing good-naturedly. "You're lucky Dad broke it up," Bran said. "You would've been toast."

"Remember who was on bottom when he did," Peeta said, playfully punching him.

"Whatever, little brother," he said. "Anyways, Ma said that breakfast was going to be ready in ten, so finish up."

With that, he exited the room. "C'mon," I said to Peeta, "Let's get this finished up before your mother get's annoyed with us for being late."

He chuckled, and returned to his task of icing the cookies. I finished making the bread and put it into the oven to bake. Once Peeta was completed with the cookies, he went out front to put them on display. When he returned I instructed him to move the bags of flour that had just come in to the back before washing his hands and joining us for breakfast.

I tidied up around back, not liking the sight of a messy kitchen. Once I was content I went up the back stairs that led to our apartment above the store. I headed to the bathroom to wash my hands. While I lathered my hands under the sink, I looked at my appearance in the mirror.

No longer was the man in the mirror the young, blonde-haired baker's apprentice with only schoolboy worries. Somehow my life had passed by before my eyes and I had become this balding old man with worry lines etched deep into his wrinkles. Some moments in my life stuck out with clarity, every detail ringing clear in my memory, while others seemed like a hazy blur. Sometimes I wondered if I was conscious during a majority of my life, or if I had simply woken up after a thirty-five year hibernation.

But I had no regrets, that much I was sure. I was proud of my three sons, one of which was married, the other graduating from high school in a year, and Peeta showing such talent and modesty at sixteen. My marriage was…. stable. Loving, at times, but always stable and sure. I ran a successful business and was still enjoying my life doing it. For the most part, my life had been content and peaceful. I couldn't ask for more than that.

With a sigh, I turned off the faucet and dried my hands on the towel. I went out to our small kitchen, with a small wooden table, a regular stove and oven, incomparable to the industrial one downstairs, and white marble top counters. Peeta and Bran were already sitting at the table, talking animatedly about some school gossip, and my wife was standing at the sink washing off a few knives and pots. On the counters cooling were pastries, fresh since this was a special occasion, with a side of stew using the squirrel I had acquired this morning.

I walked up to my wife and wrapped my arms around her waist, and kissed her cheek. "Good morning, sweetheart." Though we had both been awake for many hours now, we had only brushed past each other without actual greeting.

She tutted impatiently, and disentangled herself from me. "Balthar, why do you insist on humoring that little girl? We don't need you trading precious goods for this…this awful squirrel."

"I'm not humoring her, its called sympathy, Merope," I explained, wearily taking a seat at the table. "They need it. Besides squirrel has a certain quaintness to it. I enjoy it."

"Well I don't," she complained, as she put plates in front of everyone's seat. "And you know that you'd rather not eat if you had the choice. We both know why you do it."

I didn't respond to that. This was a constant argument that had never abated during the course of our relationship, even when we were only dating. Merope was jealous of Vera, but what she didn't understand was that Vera was a part of my past. A ghost of the woman I once loved. But those feelings were never reciprocated and were long gone. But that didn't mean I had to be callous to her daughters or her when they were in need.

"I like squirrel," Peeta said, in an attempt to dissipate the awkwardness.

"Of course you do," Bran said, suggestively.

"What does that mean?" Merope asked.

"Oh, nothing," Bran said. "Only that Peeta has a wittle crush on Katniss Everdeen."

"I don't," Peeta said, though his skin turned slightly pink.

"Of course he doesn't," Merope said. "He knows better than to stoop to the level of Seam trash."

Peeta's slight frown at that went unnoticed by Merope, while I reprimanded her. "There's no need to be crude."

"I'm just saying that it's not in our son's best interest to get involved in someone who's headed nowhere. Besides who know what she get's up to illegally, though you're willing to associate yourself it ignorantly."

I sighed. Sometimes I wish that my wife wasn't so proud and determined to see the worst in those who were not as fortunate as us. But there was no point in trying to change her views. She was too obstinate and tenacious by far.

We began picking at the meal in silence. The only sounds were of the fork scraping against the plate and the chewing in our mouths. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Merope eating the squirrel stew with a disgusted expression on her face.

"Well, isn't this just the idyllic picture of a happy family," a voice said from behind me.

We all swiveled around to see my eldest son, Rye, and his wife, Thalia, waking hand in hand toward us. Thalia was a beautiful girl with long blonde hair and a tall, willowy frame. They had gotten married a little over a year ago, and now lived in small apartment alone. Though he still worked shifts at the bakery, he mostly worked at Thalia's parent's shop, where they sold jewelry.

Merope got up quickly from her seat, her mood considerably brighter, and ran over to embrace her son and daughter-in-law. "Rye! Thalia! What a surprise! I didn't expect to see you before the drawing!"

"Yeah, well, it's Terra's first one, so we figured we would spend dinner with them afterward and spend breakfast with you now," he said, as he returned his mother's hug, letting go of his wife's hand in the process. "Besides, it's Bran's last year."

"Don't I know it," Bran said, as he walked over to his brother. "How's married life suiting you these days, old man?"

He laughed, and looked adoringly at his wife. "Perfect." She smiled back at him and mouthed 'I love you'.

Bran pretended to gag, but slapped his brother on the back good-naturedly. "And how 'bout you Peeta?" Rye asked. "How've you been?"

"Good, I guess," Peeta said. "Bit nervous about today."

"Honestly, Peeta, what are the chances of it being you," Bran said. "You'll be fine."

He shrugged. "I suppose."

"Let's stop all this mournful talk," Merope said quickly. "Sit down! Sit down! I'll get you guys plates."

While Merope busied herself preparing plates, I walked over to Rye and Thalia. I wrapped my arms around Thalia and planted a kiss on her cheek. "How are you, sweetheart?"

"Great," she said, sweetly. "And what about you, Mr. Mellark?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

With a final smile, she walked over to Merope to assist. If there was one thing, Merope and Thalia actually got along really well. "How are you really, dad?" Rye asked. "Not worried are you?"

I sighed. "I'm a father. I can't help but worry."

-HG-

_The melody was simple, a pretty tune that seemed to sparkle with staccato soprano notes. I closed my eyes and breathed the alluring sound in, soaking it in like sun at the beach. My fingers found the notes automatically, pressing lightly on the familiar ivory keys. _

_ Music was both my passion and companion, almost like a stuffed teddy bear a child would have when they were young. I started learning piano when I was five, and I had a natural talent. Every time I played was like the first time. I felt the same excitement and emotion when I completed a new piece and could listen to the wonderful sounds fill my ear. My life would not be complete without music._

_ The piece progressed and flowed smoothly. I followed it through the crescendos and decrescendos, the pianos and the fortes, the melodies and the harmonies. I followed it to the inevitable ending, a trill that took one on a cliff, but never dropped. Once it was completed, I kept my eyes closed, reveling in the piece and committing it to memory._

_ "That was beautiful, Princess," my father said, breaking through my trance._

_ I turned to see him leaning against the arched doorway that led to my music room. I didn't know how long he'd been there listening, being too immersed in my music. There was a touch of nostalgia in his smile as he looked at me._

_ "You're even better than your mother was," he commented, after a pause._

_ I bit my lip. A part of me was glad that he compared me to my mother, that we had something in common. Any tidbit I learned about my mother was stored away in a special part of my brain. They were sacred treasures that I didn't receive very often. But I couldn't ignore the 'was' in his statement. It was almost as if she was already dead. The cynical part of my brain couldn't help but think that she might as well be since she spent the majority of her time holed up in her room so drugged up on morphling so that she probably wouldn't recognize me if she was conscious. She was my mother, but she was more like a stranger. I just wished that she could be a normal parent._

_ But nothing about my family was normal. For one, my father was the mayor of District 12. I still couldn't really see him that way. To me he was just my father, but his profession affected me, nonetheless. He was always busy, doing something or other for the District on Capitol orders or making sure everything was running smoothly. That, coupled with my mother's illness, left me lonely in my house most of the time. It was usually quiet, but after sixteen years I've gotten used to it._

_ "Thank you, Daddy," I replied, smiling, hoping that I wouldn't betray any of my ponderings. I knew that my father felt guilty as it is and I didn't want to add to that. I loved him, and I knew that he loved me as well._

_ He moved away from the arch and took a seat beside me on the piano bench. "I have something to give you," he said, rummaging in his pocket. "It's been intended for you, and I think you're old enough to have it."_

_ He pulled out something small from his pocket, carefully wrapped in tissue paper. He handed it to me and I carefully unwrapped it. In my hand lay a small circular gold pin with a tiny bird inside of it. It was beautiful._

_ "It's a mockingjay," my father said. "Your Aunt Maysilee wore it in the arena."_

_ In my family, Aunt Maysilee was hardly ever mentioned. All I knew about her was that she was my mother's twin sister and that she was chosen to enter the 50__th__ Hunger Games but didn't win. I felt a sudden connection with the pin, the only thing I had of the Aunt I would never know._

_ "It's beautiful, Daddy, thank you," I gushed. "I love it."_

_ "I'm glad," he said. Then kissing me on top of my head, he said, "You should start getting ready soon."_

_ "Okay," I said, and we both stood up. We silently exited the room and ascended the stairs. At the top he turned right into his office and I continued straight to my room._

_ I carefully placed the pin on the dresser while I got ready. Today was one of the only days I ever dressed up and took care about my appearance. On school days I was required to wear the ugly brown school uniform like everyone else. On weekends I didn't go out much, and even if I did I wasn't one to display my wealth and fortune, I wore simple clothing. _

_ But today was technically the first day of the Hunger Games and it was customary to dress up. So I would be wearing an expensive white dress that my father bought for me. It was pretty, but it wouldn't be comfortable and it would make me stand out._

_ After taking a shower, I took my time to lotion and spray myself with perfume. While I was getting ready, my eyes gravitated to the pin that lay on my bureau. I wondered if there was a part of her spirit still in that pin. I decided she must have been brave and independent and free, like a mockingjay. _

_ I wondered about her games. Whether she died at the bloodbath at the cornucopia or not. I didn't think so in my mind she was smarter than that. I wondered how she was finally killed. I didn't ponder that for too long, because it was upsetting. I could only imagine what my mother went through seeing her twin go into the Hunger Games and watching her die at such a young age. I wondered if that was one of the reasons my mother accepted the morphling so readily so she wouldn't have to deal with the haunting memories of those games._

_ As I looked into the mirror, brushing my long blonde hair, I wondered what I would do if I was chosen to be in the Hunger Games. It wasn't likely that I'd be chosen, but it was possible. Just the thought of it caused fear and made me want to cry. If I was chosen, the likelihood of me surviving was minimal. But I figured I would try. With the spirit of my Aunt Maysilee in the pin, I would try and make it back home._

_ While I put the pink ribbon into my hair, I saw from my window that Katniss and Gale were headed in this direction. I quickly finished my hair and attached the pin to the dress, before going downstairs to grab the allocated money off the counter and meet them at the back._

_ I opened the door just as they reached the back porch. They were both dressed in hunting gear and covered in mud and leaves, evidently just coming from the woods. It was common knowledge that Katniss and Gale illegally hunted in the woods. The peacekeepers looked away and my father didn't say anything, of course, since he was one of their main customers. He had a love for the wild strawberries they found in the woods and was willing to pay for them._

_ When they saw me, Katniss gave me a small smile and waved. Katniss was the closest thing I had to a friend. We were the same age, and both not very social, so we ended up sitting at lunch and partnering together. We didn't talk much, and never outside of school, but like I said, I was used to the quiet. _

_ Gale, on the other hand, had the same opinion of me most of the other kids my age had. They thought I was stuck up and spoiled because my father was rich in this district of poverty. I was resented, even by the town kids, because of my father's wealth. Either that, or they thought that my father was in cahoots with the capitol and was afraid that he would get them in trouble or something. They steered clear of me, not bothering to ever get to know me._

_ "Pretty dress," Gale said, contempt smearing his tone telling me this wasn't a complement._

_ Now Gale was Katniss' best friend, though Katniss' opinion of me didn't affect the way he thought of me. Well, in truth I didn't know what Katniss thought of me. I wanted to say she liked me, at least a little bit, but I couldn't be sure._

_ I pressed my lips together. Gale was always quick to comment on the things I couldn't control, and try to belittle me. At first I just took it. I hadn't wanted Gale to think he could walk all over me, but he was intimidating. First, he was handsome. I couldn't help but notice the perfect slant of his jaw, the deepness of his beautiful gray eyes, and the tone of his muscles. Just his sight took my breath away. Secondly, he was very tall and muscular. He had an aura around him that said you didn't want to mess with him. But I didn't want him to think that I was someone he could put into a box. I didn't want to let him get away with treating me in such a demeaning way and choosing who I was to be. So I started throwing it right back in his face and coming up with witty comebacks. And that's what I did now._

_ I smiled falsely, just the curve my lips instead of an expression of emotion. "Well if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?"_

_ Gale's face scrunched in confusion as he took in my meaning. Finally, he said, "You won't be going to the Capitol. What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old."_

_ The Hunger Games was still a scary prospect for me as it was every one else. I may not have as many slips as others my age, namely Katniss, but there's still a chance I could go. There were eleven year olds who were chosen with only one slip. _

_ But he couldn't focus on the fact that we had a common fear, a common enemy. No, he had to focus on the fact that I had more, even though it was out of my control. I wish that this district wasn't ridden with poverty. I, too, thought it unfair that I had so much when others had so little. I empathized with Katniss' and Gale's and those countless other suffering children's situation. But there was nothing I could do about it._

_ People looked at me and thought that I would be someone who let her money go to her head and pranced about thinking she was better than everyone else. In all honesty, though, it was them who were obsessed with my money and put me on the pedestal above them._

_ "That's not her fault," Katniss said, and I was grateful that she had chosen my side over Gale's. I knew that she had every right to feel the same way as Gale did, him being her best friend and them being in the same boat, but I was glad that she didn't._

_ "No, it's no one's fault. Just the way it is," he replied. But the blame was still there. Though, I thought that perhaps some was directed at the Capitol, he still blamed me._

_ I quickly completed the transaction with Katniss, trading the berries for the money, before wishing Katniss good luck and turning to go back inside. _

_ The interaction left a cool feeling in the pit of my stomach. I hated that I was so sensitive and that the littlest of comments could bring me down. But the truth is, I wished that I wasn't the mayor's daughter or that it didn't have such a negative connotation. _

_ All I ever wanted was a normal life. Normal parents. Normal friends. I just wanted to be known for who I am and be loved and wanted for that. So that when they hated me or looked down, or worse up, at me, I had someone to remind me that I wasn't who they thought I was._

_ With a sigh, I brushed my hand against the pin on my dress and I remembered Effie's little mantra. It seemed as though every one needed just a little luck to be in their favor._

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**A/N: Well that was the first chapter. Reviews, suggestions, criticisms-all are accepted. i hope you enjoyed =D**_  
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	2. Chapter 2

****Part I - **Gale**

****Part II - _**Mrs. Everdeen**_

_****_Part III - _Madge_

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**After finishing our small feast of bread and cheese, Katniss and I decided to fish, simply leaving our poles on the edge of the lake, while we gathered in the meantime, hopefully scrounging up something good for dinner tonight. We were able to return to our normal conversations after that, but her abhorrence on the idea of kids and running away still remained, annoyingly, in the back of my mind.**

** The truth was, I didn't know how to change my relationship with Katniss. Sure, I'd had girlfriends before, and knew how to charm them and pick them up. But they were usually someone that I wasn't close with and clearly interested in me. Katniss had been my friend for so long, I didn't how to get her to stop thinking of me as a friend and more like someone she would want to go out with. I didn't even know if she found me attractive at all. My only relief was that she didn't go out with anybody else. Probably, because it was clear to everyone but her that I'd marked my territory. Even the girls I went out with knew that it would only be for a short time. Katniss just was the girl for me.**

** But she was still my best friend, and I didn't want to lose her. So I cooled down any serious talk and kept it light. I didn't bring it up while we were gathering (a few greens and strawberries from the patch Katniss found), taking up the fish we caught (a dozen or so), at the Hob (we traded in six fish for some bread and salt), or at Mayor Undersee's house (who loved the strawberries).**

** Only this time, as it had in past occurrences, the mayor's daughter, Madge, was the one to arbitrate the transaction. Even though I knew she was a friend of Katniss', I didn't like her on principle. Sure, I was dazzled by the sight of her in that white dress that fell just right above her knee and accentuated her body and her hair done up fancily. But then I remembered how much money that dress and that stupid gold pin she was wearing must've cost, and how many starving families in the Seam it could've saved. Hell, we lived in a coal-mining district and this girl had the nerve to wear white? I just couldn't associate with someone like that without feeling sick to my stomach.**

** So I got into it with her, making sure she knew of my distaste. I made snide comments and made sure she knew how unjust the system, and therefore her life, was. Besides, her dad was like putty in the hands of the capitol. I bet she thought she was above this district.**

** But when we left afterward, I was left with an odd feeling. I couldn't place it but I didn't feel so good about myself. I was surprised, and a little impressed, by the way Madge handled herself and the way she shot my remarks right back at me. I knew that in a way, she had a point. She could still get chosen for the Hunger Games, though it wasn't likely. But the fact that she had only five slips, in comparison to the twenty Katniss had, just grated me underneath my skin. No, I couldn't like her. It was just the principle of it.**

** I could tell that Katniss was upset with me because of how I acted with Madge. But I also knew that she felt the same way and would get over it. She knew that the system was flawed and that it wasn't right that the poorest had to increase their eligibility by submitting their name for tesserae, while Madge got to live in her big, fancy mansion wiling about the day without a care. Katniss didn't need to defend her little rich girl friend, when she had bigger problems. What right did Madge have to put herself at my level, as if she had lived through my pain and my hardships?**

** I couldn't help myself from being angry. Not only about Madge, but also the Capitol. I hated it. I would do anything to see it burn to the ground and all of its inhabitants suffer. I hated the way it took advantage of our suffering and put us through hell. But I couldn't go around saying that in the district. Not when they're were peacekeepers milling about and the Capitol always an earshot away. But when I was in the freedom of the woods, I could say anything I wanted without being implicated. **

** Once we reached Katniss' house, we divided the food equally, and bid each other goodbye. I circled back to my house and walked the short distance in a matter of minutes. My house was a small hovel, though it was neat and homey. **

** When I pushed open the door, Posy immediately ran over with a gleeful cry and latched herself to my leg. "Gale! You're back!"**

** I swung her into my arms and tickled her stomach. She wriggled around in my arms, laughing unintentionally, and pleaded for me to stop. "Alright, little munchkin," I said, and put her down. Easily distracted, she ran over to where Vick, who was already dressed in his best clothes, was playing with a few sticks. **

** I walked through the living room, the small square with a raggedy couch and the small TV, to the kitchen to relinquish my goods. My mother was already in there, starting the preparations. "Good day?" she asked in greeting.**

** I pulled the fish and greens and berries out of my bag to show and she smiled. "Wow," she said. "We'll have a nice meal, tonight. Thank you, Gale."**

** I shrugged. Even though I have been taking care of my family for nearly five years, my mother never stopped saying thank you to me. To me, it was my duty to provide for and protect my family. To her, it was something I volunteered to do.**

** She got up from her seat at the table and wrapped her arms around me. She didn't say anything but I knew she was worried about me. It was very likely that I would be going into the Hunger Games this year. But my mother was too proud to say that she was scared or show it in her expression. This was the only way I knew what she was thinking.**

** We separated after a moment, and she just looked at me. Though my mother had aged considerably in the past five years, adding lines to her face and grays to her otherwise black hair, I still thought she was beautiful. "Go get ready," my mother said to me. "There's a tub waiting for you, and your clothes are on your bed."**

** "Sure," I said, simply and walked away. I went back through the living room to the room I shared with Vick and Rory. It was a simple room, with only a bunk bed against one wall and a single bed against the opposite. On either side there were closets that housed a mix of our clothing. Some of the few toys Vick played with were strewn about, and like my mother said, there was an outfit laid down on the bed.**

** On the top bunk lay Rory in deep contemplation. I could tell that he was worried. It was his first year facing the drawing. I couldn't believe how old he'd gotten in only a few years. He'd become more mature, although he still acted like a fool most of the time. I was worried for him, as well. But I reminded myself that there was more of a chance that I would go in than he would. I refused to let him take out Tesserae and that was how it was going to stay.**

** "Oh, hey Gale," he said, when I entered. His voice sounded so morose, almost morbid.**

** "What's up kid?"**

** He simple shrugged. "You've got nothing to worry about," I tried to assure him. "You know that right?"**

** He didn't say anything. I walked up to him and he was forced to look at me. I knew that he didn't want to be babied. "Look, you're probably not going into the games, Rory," I told him. "But there's a very distinct chance that I will. Do you know what that means?"**

** "You have to go to the Capitol and participate in the Games?" he suggested, obviously.**

** "Well, yes, but that's not what I meant. If I have to go, then you become the man of the house. Are you ready for that?"**

** He looked at me warily, and perhaps even more fearful than he was before. "I know. It's scary. I wasn't either."**

** He made a sound of disbelief. "You?"**

** "Yes, me. I was afraid and I didn't know what the hell I was doing, but I knew that I had to be the man of the house and I got over it. You're going to have to do the same thing."**

** He nodded slowly. "But you're going to be better off than I was. You're going to have some help. If I get chosen, I want you to follow these exact instructions." I wished that I had taken him into the woods more often. I had taken him for the first time a little over a year ago, but I haven't found a lot of opportunities to take him and none at all to really pass on my knowledge. Now I wish I had. "You're going to go to Katniss. And you're going to go to the woods and do everything she says. Can you handle that?"**

** He nodded eagerly, his eyes wide. "Yeah. I can do that."**

** "Good. Now get out so I can get ready."**

** I took a step back so that he could jump down and run out. Only moments later, I heard him laughing with Vick and Posy. The fact that I could hear my brothers and sister laugh and smile was what I lived for. Nothing else mattered. I only hoped that I would be able to hear it again.**

**-HG-**

_**Grief can cause one to make grave mistakes. I was no exception to that. When I lost Ross I thought I had lost everything. Everything else shrunk in importance in comparison, including my two young daughters. I selfishly turned myself off and consumed myself within my woe. I got sucked into that dark hole that left me useless and left my girls abandoned. I regret that period of my life more than anything else. I could never forgive myself for leaving my girls to fend for themselves at such a crucial time. **_

_** At night I dream about what might've happened if Katniss hadn't been so strong and resourceful. While I lost my way, she found hers. She found a way to keep us alive. But if she hadn't, my children may have been dead or worse by the time I snapped out of my depression. Just the thought of that plagued me every night.**_

_** I was supposed to be their guardian, their protector. I was supposed to be the one they depended on. My children proved to be stronger than I ever was. They lost their father, and at they're juvenile age they were able to handle it better than I did.**_

_** I was sick. I know that now. I now had the medications to take care of myself so that didn't happen again. But at the time I was ailed by a malady that forced me blind and in pain. I was impervious to the suffering around me and consumed by my own. My chest was rampantly constricted with the weight of grief and death. I couldn't think. I couldn't rationalize. I couldn't move. I regressed into the lowest part of my mind. But I was better now. I wouldn't do that again.**_

_** "Hold still, Prim," I said, sticking a final pin into the waistband of the skirt. It's had been Katniss' old reaping outfit, and it was still a little too big for Prim, but we couldn't afford to get her a new one. "Okay, I'm finished."**_

_** She ran over to the cracked mirror that leaned against the wall and appraised herself. She cocked her head to the side thoughtfully, before turning back to me smiling. 'Thank you, momma!"**_

_** I walked over to where she was and wrapped her into my arms. My little Prim was so precious and so beautiful. She was always a bundle of joy, willing to see the best in situations. It was impossible not to love her, and I don't understand how I ever could've left her. She forgave me so easily, even though I didn't deserve it.**_

_** I could not believe how old she had gotten. She was already twelve years old and facing her first reaping. One never truly feels fear and hatred toward the Capitol until you watch your own children go up against them. It was nerve wracking to think that one of my daughters could possibly get chosen.**_

_** Prim, with only one slip, was least likely. But Katniss, oh Katniss, she had so many slips she could very well be going. I couldn't lose her now while our relationship was barely mended. Katniss never truly forgave me for what I did. The anger wasn't as evident as it used to be, but I could see the mistrust in her eyes. She was still waiting for me to regress again even though I assured her that I wouldn't.**_

_** I left Prim to get ready myself. I rummaged through my closet to choose a dress to wear. I accumulated them all while I still lived in town and could afford to buy pretty dresses. When I married Ross, something I had never regretted, I knew I would be giving up the luxuries and security that came with living in town. But I kept the dresses as a keepsake and a remembrance.**_

_** I pulled out a blue one from my closet that didn't fit me the way it used to, though I hadn't grown much from since I was nineteen. But it would be perfect for Katniss, who now at sixteen needed to dress like a mature young lady. I put the dress on her bed, before continuing to search for my own.**_

_** I got dressed quickly and without fuss. Like my daughter, I looked at my reflection in the cracked mirror. I had aged considerably in the time I didn't take care of myself. My skin was graying, as was my hair, and wrinkles began to etch itself into my face. The fine dress of my younger days looked odd on this advanced woman.**_

_** I looked out the window to see if Katniss was anywhere near. It was almost time for the reaping and she still needed to get ready. I worried about Katniss most often. She left and did as she pleased without consulting me, though I had little right to ask her of that. I still worried, though, that she would be caught in those woods, like I used to worry for Ross. **_

_** I set up a bath with warm water from the pump outside our home, hoping that she won't be too long. Thankfully, she appeared only moments later. She handed me her bag of the things I would need to prepare a meal tonight, without much greeting. She ruffled Prim's hair on her way to the bath and quickly scrubbed herself clean. **_

_** Meanwhile, I begin preparing a stew with the fish and greens that we'll eat later after the reaping. For breakfast, though, I took some of the rough tesserae grain for bread, saving the rest of the goods for later tonight. Prim went out to her goat, Lady, to pump for milk that would go along with it.**_

_** When Katniss saw the dress that I laid out for her, I could see the hesitation on her face. Her first instinct was to reject it and use the frayed dress she wore last year. Had it been last year, she would've rejected it out right without thinking about it. But slowly, she's been learning to accept my help.**_

_** "Are you sure?" she asked.**_

_** "Of course," I replied. "Let's put your hair up, too."**_

_** After Katniss donned the dress, and slipped her feet into the matching shoes, I helped her dry her hair with the towel. I began to braid her hair in a style my mother used to do for me and taught me to do myself. I wove her beautiful light brown hair into braids and twisted it intricately on top of her head.**_

_** As Katniss studied herself in the mirror, I took note of how she had just transformed into a grown woman in front of my eyes. She, herself, was shocked at her appearance, her mouth widened slightly. "You look beautiful," Prim said, awestruck mirroring all of our thoughts.**_

_** "And nothing like myself," Katniss dismissed, though she scooped Prim into her arms. The love that Katniss is hesitant to show me or anyone else is plainly evident in her expressions and actions toward Prim. **_

_** "Tuck you tail in, little duck," she says, affectionately, referring to the back of Prim's shirt that refused to stay tucked in. **_

_** "Quack," Prim jokes.**_

_** This causes Katniss to laugh, albeit only a little, which she so rarely does. "Quack yourself," she says. "Come on, let's go eat."**_

_** I couldn't help but smile at the interaction between Katniss and Prim. Taking Katniss' cue, I joined them at the table, thankful that at least at this moment our little family was intact and happy.**_

_**-HG-**_

_My father and I walked silently down to the town square where the reaping was held. The town square was usually a merry place, bright with people chattering and shopping. But on the day of the reaping it was morose and solemn. The faces of everyone clearly expressed fear and desperation. My face did not stand out among them._

_ The square had been transformed with ropes allocating different ages and a large one around the perimeter where family members were to stand watching and waiting. At the front, where the Justice Building stood, was a large platform where there was a podium and three chairs intended for my father, as mayor, Effie Trinket, as District 12's escort who was already seated, and for Haymitch Abernathy, District 12's only living, and currently absentee, victor. There were also two large glass balls filled with white slips, one for boys and one for girls._

_ My father held me by the shoulders, staring at me gravely, before kissing me on the cheek and heading to the stage. I walked down the center as the designated areas progressed in age. I passed the first sections that held all the twelve year olds, many of them small and emaciated. I walked past the thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen year olds who were my neighbors and the people I saw daily. I stopped and joined the queue for the sixteen year olds who were my peers in school. I stood awkwardly in a space on my own, not talking to anyone else. _

_ I glanced around and looked at all the familiar faces. Dorin Faye from the market, Savera Wellwood from the dress shop, Peeta Mellark from the bakery, Blye Ivory who lived in the Seam and whose parents worked in the mines. In front was the eighteen year olds, like Gale Hawthorne and his friends. I saw, just arriving, Katniss Everdeen, who took a spot near mine, and her younger sister Prim all the way in the back. All of us wore masks of unadulterated fear and anxiety. Two of us could be the one chosen._

_ The square filled up fast, so that there was little elbowroom. The adjacent streets, I knew, were also filled with latecomers or those who had no eligible family members and had no desire to be close to the action. It was tense, and sweaty, and ridden with anxiety._

_ At promptly two o'clock, when the chime of the clock filled the square, my father stood up from his seat and stepped up to the podium. As he did every year since he'd become the mayor, he told the history of Panem and of the establishment of the Hunger Games. _

_ This was another reason why people tended to think that he was another pawn of the Capitol. He stood there and read the Capitol's justification of the Hunger Games. He stood there and said that it was our fault we were submitted to this horrific enterprise. I could almost feel their accusing glares on me, though that may have just been paranoia._

_ I wanted to tell them that he was forced to say this. That he didn't believe in anything that he was saying. Look at me, I wanted to stay, I'm standing right here with you. I'm in the same boat. It could very well be me. A father would not be okay with his daughter participating in the Hunger Games, would he?_

_ At the end of the speech he read the list of District twelve victors, which lasted about ten seconds. We've only ever had two, and one of which passed away at least ten years ago. The other one is Haymitch Abernathy, who, as if on cue, sauntered onto the stage right at that moment. As always he was drunk, more so today, so his footing wasn't sure as he stumbled onto the stage, and fell into his seat._

_ If there was one thing that Haymitch did, it was provide the district with comic relief on this day. The crowd broke into laughing applause as a disoriented Haymitch attempted to hug Effie while she swatted him back. My father looked at this with a disdainful sigh, probably hoping his career wasn't implicated by this behavior. His job was dependent on keeping the Capitol pleased._

_ "And now," he said, loudly over the microphone, trying to calm the now semi-rowdy crowd and get back to the reaping. "Here's Effie Trinket!"_

_ Effie Trinket jumped up enthusiastically and walked over to the podium. Though her skin was a normal color and she didn't have any strange additions to her body like some people in the Capitol, she had a bright pink wig and a freakishly white smile. As she looked over the crowd she smiled effervescently and eagerly, before reciting her signature phrase._

_ "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"_

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**A/N: CHAPTER TWO! Hope you guys enjoyed.**

**A special thanks to mandymellark for being the first reviewer! Thank you so much I really appreciated it!**_  
_

**Thanks also to dianasam and WithLoveAlways who put this story on alert!**

******Reviews, suggestions, criticisms-all are accepted**


	3. Chapter 3

Part I – Prim

Part II - **Bran**

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Everyone told me I shouldn't be nervous. They were quick to mention to me at the slightest fall of the face that I wouldn't be chosen. That because I only had one slip in that huge ball of white papers, the odds of grabbing mine was minimal. They were right, of course. I probably wouldn't be chosen. But Katniss would.

I knew that thousands of other names were in that bowl, but I felt so sure that it would be Katniss. She had so many slips in there because she wouldn't let me take out tesserae, though I had wanted to do my part to help our family. I could feel it in my stomach that our family would be torn apart. The butterflies in my gut were rampant and made me nauseated.

As Effie Trinket spoke over the microphone, I couldn't focus in on the words. I tried to search for Katniss' head all the way in front; hoping the intricate braid design in her hair would make her stand out. But I was all the way in the back and she was so far in the front. I stood on my tiptoes hoping to catch if only a mere glimpse.

I thought about what I would possibly do without my sister. Sure, she was the one who provided for our family, making sure we had food and everything else we need. But that's not why I would miss her. I would miss the way she hugged me when I was sad. I would miss her body next to mine while we slept. And I would miss the piece of my heart that would certainly leave with her if she left.

No, my sister couldn't leave. She wouldn't be chosen, I tried to make myself believe. It would be some other unfortunate kid. I felt selfish wishing that Katniss wouldn't go through, but someone else would. But I didn't want anyone to get chosen. I didn't want anyone to die. I just wanted this to be a dream that I would soon wake up from.

"Ladies first!" Effie's voice rang out above the crowd, her distinct accent clearly enunciated.

The crowd was silenced as Effie walked over to the ball that had the names of the girls. Her heels clicked ominously as she made her way over, echoing audibly loud in my head. She dipped her hand into the ball, clawing around until her hand grasped a slip. Paper in her hand, she crossed back over to the podium, her heels clicking threateningly once more.

The anxiety was almost unbearable as she reached the podium, and cleared her throat before saying the name. The crowd was tense, almost buzzing, with nerves and apprehension. She smoothed down the piece of paper and looked over it once more.

_Please don't be Katniss_, I begged mentally to whoever was listening. _Please be anyone but Katniss._

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Effie said. "Your female tribute for the 74th Hunger Games is…" She paused for emphasis before saying clearly and loudly. "Primrose Everdeen!"

It didn't register at first. I was so focused on her calling Katniss' name that the first thing I took note of was that the name she spoke was not Katniss Everdeen. The first thing that I felt was relief and thanks. My sister would not be going into the Hunger Games.

But, strangely everyone was looking at me, their faces drawn tight into masks of pity and sadness. I felt a few hands brush me on the back, comfortingly. Did they call Katniss' name after all? I rethought to what she said and no she didn't call Katniss' name. She called mine.

My mouth was dry as I came to this realization. Each swallow hurt as I looked around dazedly. My eyes stung, but I refused to cry. I didn't want to cry in front of all these people. So taking a deep breath I began to tread to the front of the stage where I was supposed to go. I walked through the makeshift path people made for me as they waited for me to pass by.

I could feel the weight of a thousand eyes on me, perhaps making me more uncomfortable than my certain impending doom. I walked with my arms close to my side, almost hunching my shoulders, hoping that I could just disappear. My steps were staccato and separated. Walking, one of the simplest, automatic things, now seemed like a chore and something I had to think about. One step in front of the other, then repeat.

"Prim!" I hear a voice hoarse with desperation call out suddenly. I knew right away that it was Katniss. "Prim!"

I kept moving, afraid to turn back and locate Katniss' voice. I feared what I would do if I saw her and realized that it would be one of the last times. I would not be able to see Katniss and keep my emotions in check.

I had reached the stairs and was about to step up, when I was suddenly swept back and blockaded by my sister's body. "I volunteer!" she called out, hysterically. "I volunteer as tribute!"

_No, no_! my mind was in a mental frenzy mirrored by the confusion that broke out around me. The din of the crowd rose to unparalleled levels, something that was unheard of after a drawing, especially of a twelve year old. They were murmuring fervently about the unprecedented turn of events. Volunteers were common in the Career Districts, but I've never seen someone volunteer in this District.

"Lovely!" Effie declared, though she seemed a little shocked herself. She continued talking about regulations, but I couldn't focus on her meaningless trifle when I was about to lose Katniss. But I was paralyzed in shock and fear to do anything to stop her from doing this. She couldn't. I wouldn't let her.

The mayor stepped in, and said what everyone was thinking. "What does it matter?" But what I got from it was that Katniss was going. She was actually going into the Hunger Games. It unfroze me and I found my voice.

I wrapped my arms around her, trying to prevent her from moving onto the stage. "No Katniss!" I screamed through my tears. "No! You can't go!"

"Prim, let go," she said, her voice harsh and demanding, a tone she'd never taken with me before. I took me momentarily aback, and my arms went lank but I didn't let go. "Let go!" she said, again.

Suddenly I felt arms around me, easily removing from around Katniss. I immediately tried to wriggle free, but the person's arms were strong and constricting. "Up you go, Catnip," the person said, and I recognized the deep voice as Gale's.

He began to carry me away and I stopped trying to get away. I turned into his chest and cried into the dark fabric of his shirt. My heart was slowly crumbling, and the joy was draining from my spirit. It couldn't be Katniss, it just couldn't be.

Gale suddenly put on the ground, though I didn't understand why until I saw my mother looking down on me. I ran into her, my arms wrapping around her waist, and my face buried in her skirts. She lifted me off the ground and held me in her arms. I could feel her own tears sliding down my cheek.

I vaguely heard Effie introduce Katniss in the background, and say something about her wanting glory and the fame. She didn't understand. She was from the Capitol where they prized and loved the Hunger Games. She didn't understand that I would be losing my sister. She didn't understand that unless Katniss somehow finds a way to win, our family would be permanently damaged. I had already lost my father. Now, I was losing my sister.

-HG-

**Damn. Just…. damn. My thoughts were incoherent, inexpressible, as the scene unfolded in front of me. I couldn't put in words the sadness that washed over me as I heard Effie call that little girl's name. I knew who she was immediately, everyone knew who she was. She was the sweetest little girl you'd ever meet. She sometimes came down to the bakery just to look at and comment on the pretty designs. The fact that someone as young and as kind and as innocent as her could be chosen for the Hunger Games was wrong no matter how you looked at it.**

** But what really got me was the way that her sister, Katniss, volunteered for her. Not the fact that she did it, which was pretty remarkable in itself. But the certainty in her voice when she did it was overwhelming. It was if there was no other option, no thought process. It was so honorable and valiant that you couldn't help but be impressed.**

** Now, I never thought much of Katniss Everdeen. She was just that girl that everyone knew because of her illegal activity or because of her father who was pretty renown. Hell, I wouldn't have paid half the attention I did to her if Peeta didn't have that crush on her. Still, even with that I didn't think much of her.**

** But after that display of heroics and virtue, I couldn't help but be awed by the pure spirit of her. Even now, standing on the stage her hard expression didn't waver and she showed no signs of fear or sadness. There was something special about Katniss Everdeen. I couldn't place what it was but something seemed to emanate from her skin, pulling from deep within her soul. But it was definitely unique to her. I knew that now.**

** Effie Trinket seemed to be beside herself with glee at the turn of the events. The boring, unexciting reaping of District 12 suddenly had a new twist that would bring District 12 to the attention of the capitol for the first time since Haymitch won.**

** "Well, bravo," Effie said, smiling with excitement. "That's the spirit of the Games! What's your name?"**

** "Katniss Everdeen," Katniss replied, stoically, still betraying no emotion.**

** "I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"**

** It was tradition and custom to applaud for the tributes. The Hunger Games was a celebration in the Capitol, and we had to go along with the farce and not show our discontent. Even though we saw the wrongness and the cruelty in sending a twelve year old or anybody into the Hunger Games, we clapped to appease the Capitol. But not this time.**

** After that act of valor, to clap would be disingenuous and disrespectful. It was already tainted by Effie's words, turning her sacrifice into something superficial and materialistic, which was the true embodiment of the Capitol. But I wouldn't add to that, and I suppose that's what everyone else thought.**

** I don't know who started it. One of her friends, maybe, or someone who knew her from the Seam. But it spread like wildfire, and soon everyone was doing. I couldn't help myself from bringing my three middle fingers to my lips and holding out to her. It was District 12's symbol of respect. A gesture usually done at funerals to say good-bye to a loved one. It seemed oddly appropriate at this time.**

** But that's not what the Capitol would see. They would see a District united. That should be a good thing, but in the Capitol's eyes it was radical. Dangerous. But right now, it was the right thing to do. We stopped only when Haymitch stumbled over to Katniss, apparently, and drunkenly, deciding to put in his own two cents.**

** He slugged his arm over her shoulder. "Look at her. Look at this one!" he declared. "I like her! Lot's of…" he trailed off before thinking of the word. "Spunk!" He turned to face the camera, marching right toward it. "More than you! More than you!"**

** He continued marching until he toppled right off the stage and was promptly unconscious. I stared, unsure how to react, as men came with stretchers to load him onto and toted him away.**

** "What an exciting day!" Effie declared, straightening her wig and trying to make sense of all that was occurring. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!"**

** The crowd seemed to hold a collective breath, waiting for what would come next. Would it be another twelve year old? An eighteen year old? Could something possibly climax what had happened during the drawing of the girl tribute?**

** Effie quickly grabbed a slip from the ball, and came back to the podium. I was strangely not nervous for myself, simply anxious to find out the result. "Peeta Mellark," she says loudly.**

** What...the…fuck! The crowd seemed to slip back into an anticlimactic aura. I mean to them it was a perfectly average sixteen-year-old boy. There was nothing exciting or eventful about that. But my blood was boiling to new heats. How…. how could this have possibly happened? Of all people it had to be Peeta. No! Why?**

** I found him as he slowly made his way to the stage. I could tell that he was trying to keep his emotions in check, though he was failing to conceal the shock and ill-disguised fear and alarm. I, myself, was struggling to keep myself from screaming or crying or a combination of both. That was my little brother! He…he couldn't die. He couldn't! It wasn't supposed to be him!**

** When he reaches the stage, as protocol Effie asks if anyone wanted to volunteer. Here was my chance, I thought. Katniss did it for her little sister, now it's my turn. I'm supposed to protect my little brother, and this I what I have to do. But the words wouldn't come to my lips.**

_**What am I waiting for**_**, I thought. **_**Just do it**_**. It's the right thing to do, right? I love Peeta, don't I? I don't want him to die. I have to do this. I have to do this! But still the words wouldn't leave my mouth.**

_**I volunteer!**_** Those are only two words. I can say them! Now! No…Now! **_**I volunteer!**_** But my mouth wouldn't even open to say them. Why can't I say them?**

** Well, Peeta **_**is**_** sixteen, I thought to myself. He's pretty big, and very strong. He could take care of himself. And there isn't any reason to think that I would do any better than him. He doesn't **_**need **_**my protection. He probably wouldn't want me to volunteer either. **

** But though all of those were true, they were just excuses. Each one flimsy and weak. None them were the actual reason behind my reluctance to volunteer. Truth was, I didn't want to volunteer.**

** Just as I thought the words, the time to volunteer had lapsed and Effie was announcing that Peeta was the male tribute for the 74****th**** Hunger Games. There was some polite clapping and a low din of murmuring, but I didn't hear anything.**

** At that moment I realized that no matter how much I loved Peeta, I didn't love him enough to risk my life for him. And that's when I started crying in earnest. Hysterical audible sobs that didn't belong to a man of eighteen racked my body. I was shaking and crying uncontrollably and I didn't care what the hell anybody else thought.**

** I felt myself fall to the floor, but didn't bother to get up. I was overwhelmed and overemotional and felt so guilty. **_**Peeta!**_** I wanted to call out to him. **_**Peeta! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, little brother**_**. Peeta deserved a brother who loved him unconditionally and who would volunteer without a second thought. Peeta deserved a Katniss. **

** I felt someone's arms come around me and simply hold me. "It's okay," whoever it was said. "It'll be okay."**

** But it wouldn't be. This world was full of inequity and disparity. Things that shouldn't be just were and things that should be weren't. We lived in a world where things fell apart without a moment's notice. A world where things went wrong, even if you were like Prim and Peeta and had all the odds in your favor.**

* * *

**A/N: Short, but that's the third chapter! I hope you enjoyed it, esp. Bran's part because it's probably how I would react if my sister (who's 15) was chosen for the Hunger Games and i really loved writing in his perspective. **

**Thanks to ****CathcingSparks, ****Thegoofybookworm, and ****Raissa for reviewing! They really made me smile and were very much appreciated.**

**Again, I hope you liked the chapter =D. ****Reviews, suggestions, criticisms-all are accepted! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 1- Mrs. Mellark**

_**Part 2-Mrs. Everdeen**_

_Part 3-Mr. Mellark_

Part 4- Rye Mellark

* * *

**Peeta was dead.**

** Well, not yet, but he would be. He was going into the Hunger Games and he was no match for the strong and prepared tributes of the career districts. There was no point in having any hopes or consuming myself with grief. Peeta was going to die. That was just they way it was.**

** I had never had time for such nonsense like crying for things that I couldn't possibly change. So as I watched him saunter up to the stage, his chin crinkled in determination to not cry, I closed my eyes briefly and took a breath. When I reopened them, I watched with a clear head and my bearings gathered. The words Effie said brushed past me, and could have been about something trivial like the weather for the effect it had on me.**

** The next few minutes passed rather quickly, with Effie asking for volunteers, for which there were none, and announcing Peeta as the male tribute for the 74****th**** Hunger Games. During this, my husband had clasped my hand, squeezing it tightly. His breathing hitched and fluctuated, indicating that he was crying. He was too sensitive by far.**

** Sometimes I thought that all we had in common these days was our children. But when we first dated we couldn't get through a sentence without the other completing it. I would've sworn that he was my other half. Nowadays, it was a struggle to even keep up with the task.**

** The little things I barely noticed at the beginning of our relationship were suddenly blatant and bothersome. The way he showed every emotion on his face, so that nothing was kept hidden, kept sacred. His weakness and inability to say no. Some called it kindness. I called it being soft. And the way he felt it necessary to touch those little displays of affection no matter where we were. **

** He held my hand now as a way to derive comfort and strength. But I didn't want to be his, or anyone's, safety net. I didn't want to be leaned on or relied on. For once, I wished that Balthar could be his own consoler. But I allowed him to hold my hand, because, I suppose, it was my duty as his wife.**

** My frustration at my husband's softness was coupled by the sight of that girl on the stage. I wouldn't be surprised if he was more upset by her imminent death than our own son's, the way he liked to take care of her even if it implicated our own family. As long as he pleased that woman, even though I was his wife and not she.**

** But the more I thought about it, the less inevitable that girl, Katniss', death became. I remember when Haymitch had won the Hunger Games, and in a way they seemed to emit the same energy of danger that was necessary to win. Who knew what that girl got up to in those woods she was probably just as bad as those careers. She, I could say with some confidence, had a chance, not like Peeta. My son was too good to ever win those abhorred games.**

** At the conclusion of Effie's speech, Peeta was toted away by some peacekeepers to the Justice Building, as was custom. Balthar and I silently headed in that direction, ignoring, pointedly in my case, the pitying stares of those around us. They quickly moved out of our path, and a few even patted my back in what was supposed to be comfort, but were just annoyances. **

** "I…I can't believe this," Balthar mumbled, thickly. "Peeta…" he moaned. I didn't respond. Balthar wiped at his eyes, and sniffled. It was embarrassing, as everyone continued to stare at us.**

** The bakery was on the way to the Justice Building, but I was surprised when Balthar stopped me and went in. He was only in there for a moment, and came out without any perceptible difference. I didn't have much care to ask him the reason behind the stop, so I didn't.**

** When we arrived, we headed directly for the door that was indicated for the male tribute by a plaque on the door. The edifice was awe striking with looming ceilings covered with red curtains, soft-carpeted floors, and ornate golden designs. It was tasteful and expensive, fitting for a building in the name of the capitol. **

** The peacekeeper let us in without any fight or hindrance. The room, like the rest of the building, was composed of decorative and impressive furniture. The couches were velvet and plush, in colors ranging from deep mauves to vibrant reds. The walls held elaborate paintings of various scenes and people.**

** Peeta sat on one of the couches sitting against the wall, his head buried in his hands and his body shaking with tears. He looked up as we closed the door behind us, his face tear-stained and ridden with desperation. There was a slight flicker in my resolve, as I saw my boy, my youngest son, so miserable. I closed my eyes again, trying to steady the quivers in my breath, and fight back the tears. **

_**I can do this**_**, I told myself. I opened my eyes and looked back at my son. I took two strides to where he sat and wrapped my arms around him. He leaned onto my chest and continued to cry silently. **

** "I'm sorry, Peeta," I said, trying to stay impartial, trying not to let it get to me. **_**Focus on anything but Peeta, **_**I instructed myself. "Maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner this year. She's a survivor, that one."**

** "Yeah," Peeta said, sucking in a deep breath to calm himself and removing himself from my embrace. "Maybe."**

** Balthar walked over to him then, and Peeta stood to meet his embrace. I watched them hug and cry with each other, struggling to remain aloof and detached. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly in and out. The pressure in the room was increasing, and I felt myself developing claustrophobia.**

** It was almost relieving when the peacekeeper came to inform us that our time was up. Balthar and I each hugged Peeta one final time, told him that we loved him and goodbye, before exiting the room.**

** We met Rye, Thalia, and Terra on our way out, and had a brief encounter before they went in to Peeta. I just wanted to get out of this place, and immediately headed for the door out of here.**

** I wasn't all that shocked when Balthar veered to the right, where the female tribute's room was. I knew, I just knew, that he couldn't wait to comfort that girl that he barely knew. Maybe, while he was there, he would be that shoulder for Vera. Forget his wife, and the rest of his family, he needed to comfort VERA!**

** I tried to talk him out of it, ignoring the stares of Peeta's friends who marveled at the altercation. But he disregarded my wishes, calling me the selfish one, telling me that I didn't understand. I stormed out of there, angry and betrayed.**

** I got down to the fifth stair before I couldn't take it any longer and collapsed into a seated position. A single tear escaped from my reign of strength and I hurriedly wiped it away. I couldn't help but feel that I wasn't losing only my son, but my husband too.**

**-HG-**

_** My daughter was going into the Hunger Games. I still couldn't fathom it, or even make sense of it. She was only sixteen! She was far too young to lose her life. And to have it end in such a public, cruel, and humiliating way, was just unbearable to think about.**_

_** Prim and I ascended the stairs to the Justice Building, a seemingly isolated building as I saw no one else entering or milling about. I held her in my arms as she quietly wept onto my shoulder. I hadn't held her like this in years, though she was still small enough to be lifted. It was even more unfathomable that it had been her name that had been called to go into the Hunger Games. **_

_** How could we live in a world where someone so little and innocent and unassuming could be herded to be killed for millions of Panem citizens to watch. I was so thankful that I had Katniss had been there to prevent that from occurring.**_

_** Even thinking that made me feel wrong. It wasn't like I loved Katniss any less than I loved Prim. Mothers liked to tell their children that they loved them equally, and though that tended to be true, because of the differences and individuality of those children, the love was different and therefore unequal.**_

_** I wasn't sure that I'd be able to live, to breathe, if it was Prim going into the Hunger Games. I didn't want Katniss to be in it either, and I would mourn and cry every day, probably, until she came back, that is, if she did. But there was something reassuring as I remembered her strength and determination to survive. Prim was too kind to ever try to win the Hunger Games, but Katniss did, and that did not necessarily mean she was cruel. It meant that there was a possibility, a hope, that I would see my daughter again and I held onto that with dear life.**_

_** I entered the building and took no more notice of the grandeur structure than I would a paper bag tumbling down the road. I made a beeline for the door labeled 'female tribute' and walked past the peacekeeper and into the room.**_

_** When we entered the room, Katniss looked as in control as she always did. Her face was devoid of tears, but she sat Prim on her lap and held her for comfort. I couldn't think of anything to say, but evidently neither did she. We sat there for a few minutes in silence, not talking about what was going to happen. Not talking about the fact that this was most likely the last time I would see my daughter. **_

_** "Don't take out tesserae, Prim," she said finally, her voice hoarse.**_

_** "I want to help " Prim started to protest, but Katniss stopped her.**_

_** "You don't have to. If you're careful, you guys can make it without it, selling goat milk and cheese and with the apothecary business. If you need herbs, tell Gale, he'll get it for you, but you'll have to describe them clearly because he isn't as familiar with them. He'll also bring you game and anything else you need. He won't ask for anything in return, but you should probably give him milk or medicine or something."**_

_** "And Prim," she pleaded. "Stay in school, please. Don't think you need to do any more than you can handle, there will be people to help you."**_

_** Suddenly, Katniss grabbed my arm and fixed me with a derisive glare. "Listen to me," she said in a hard tone, "Are you listening to me? You can't leave again."**_

_** I looked down in shame, remembering what had happened to me the last time tragedy impaled my life. Just thinking about going back to that hole, into that dark, cold, unforgiving place, gave me the chills. "I know," I told her. "I won't. I couldn't help what " I tried to explain, but she cut me off.**_

_** "Well, you have to help it this time. You can't clock out and leave Prim on her own. There's no me now to keep you both alive. It doesn't matter what happens. Whatever you see on the screen. You have to promise me you'll fight through it!" She was near hysterics with the adamancy of her argument. Her tone was intense and unforgiving, and frankly it scared me how angry she was, still, after all these years. The distrust was hidden in all of her words.**_

_** But I was the mother, and I would not sit back here and let her talk to me. I couldn't help but let my own anger come out when I said, "I was ill. I could've treated myself if I'd had the medicine I have now."**_

_** "Then take it!" she continued. "And take care of her!"**_

_** "I'll be all right, Katniss," Prim said, trying to diffuse the tension. She put her hands on both sides of Katniss' face and said, "But you have to take care, too. You're so fast and brave. Maybe you can win."**_

_** I silently agreed with Prim, but it is clear that Katniss didn't believe it herself. I could see past the solid mask on her face to the vulnerability and hopelessness underneath. She really had no idea how able and talented she really was. **_

_**"Maybe," Katniss said, just to appease Prim. "Then we'd be as rich as Haymitch."**_

_** "I don't care if we're rich. I just want you to come home. You will try, won't you? Really, really try?"**_

_** "Really, really try. I swear it," Katniss replied, and I knew that, if only for Prim, she would try. But she still didn't believe she would win.**_

_** The door swung open and the peacekeeper alerted us that our time was up. We all gathered into a hug, declaring our love and saying our final goodbyes. Tears flowed freely out of my eyes as I looked at my daughter for what I hoped wasn't the last time.**_

_**-HG-**_

_ Saying goodbye to my son was the hardest thing that I'd had to go through in my 45 years. Watching Peeta stand there with utter distraught and hopelessness on his face tore at my soul and ripped my heart apart. Not having the words to say to make this all disappear, to keep son alive, and having nothing else to do but hold him and tell him that I love him._

_ The idea that my son would die before me was simply ludicrous to me. I was the old man, and he the young. The sons were supposed to bury the fathers, not the other way around. But we lived in a world where the Hunger Games existed and took away childhood and youth far before they should be stripped._

_ I had known pain and sorrow in my life. I remembered acutely when my father died when I was twenty-seven and my mother only five years later. But while there was a sadness to their passing, there was also a peace. It had been their time, and there had been no horror associated with it. But losing my son in this heartless and cruel manner would have no peace._

_ I kissed his forehead one last time, now, and looked into his face. The kindness in his features and the honesty in his eyes. The innocence in the tears that fell from his eyes. This should not be the last time I saw him. Should not be the last time held him. But the peacekeeper came, stone-faced and unrelenting, to remove us from the room. I caught one final fleeting glimpse of Peeta before the door closed behind us._

_ Waiting outside the door was Rye, Thalia, and Terra, all tear-stained and bearing solemn expressions. I placed my hand on Rye's shoulder, the only form of condolence I could offer at the moment. He closed his eyes and nodded in acknowledgement. I was surprised to see that Bran was not with him._

_ I questioned his absence quietly to Rye, but he merely lifted his shoulders unknowingly before the peacekeeper told them to enter. A few of Peeta's friends stood off to the side, patiently waiting their turn, and I acknowledged their presence with a nod. A couple of them waved back, the others seemed not to bare notice. _

_ I thought back to the absence of my other son, and thought about going to find him. If I knew anything about him, he was probably blaming himself for not volunteering. He had a good heart and like any older child, took the responsibility of the younger. Someone needed to tell him that this wasn't his fault, and that no one expected anything of him. I would, but first I needed to do something._

_ I took only one step in the direction of the room designated for the female tribute before I was stopped. Merope placed her hand on my arm and looked at me critically. "What are you doing Balthar?"_

_ "Merope…" I cautioned._

_ "Balthar, don't do this. You have no business going over to that girl."_

_ "I just want to say goodbye to her, Merope. We have associated for years, and it only seems right. And that little girl…"_

_ "Is none of you business," Merope finished. "Don't do this! We both know you're doing this for Her and that's it!"_

_ "How could you accuse me of such a thing at this time Merope," I asked, pleadingly. "This is about doing what is right! Peeta would want me to do this!"_

_ She simply shook her head uncaringly, stiffly turned around, and walked out of the building. In all the time I have known her, I have never understood how she dealt with crises and loss. She never mourned, to this day I have never seen her cry, and she remained cold. She seemed to push pass all and pretend that nothing was happening. Some may say it was strength. But it was callous, I could not think of it in any other light. _

_ The news that her son was dying did not faze her. She hugged him as if she was just sending him off to school like every other day. She didn't act like she would never see him again and didn't act the way a mother should when losing their son. I could not understand that._

_ It made me wonder whom I had married._

_ I stood waiting outside of the door for only a few seconds, before the peacekeeper went in and brought out Vera and Prim. Vera looked down morosely, tears falling, as she walked and Prim's nose was red, her eyes puffy. Prim was the first one to notice me and she shyly said, "Hi, Mr. Mellark." Her voice was thick with tears._

_ I patted her on the head and said, "Hi, sweetheart." My mind was still reeling at the fact that she had almost been the one at the Hunger Games. It was just…wrong. So wrong._

_ She sniffled before walking away and outside of the building. I could only guess that she wanted to remove herself from these freshly formed memories of bittersweet goodbyes, if only for this moment. I looked up to see Vera looking at me with shock and surprise._

_ Even though she had aged considerably, she was still as beautiful as the day I met her. I flashbacked to the past, a time where we were both young and in love. Her blonder hair was shiny and bouncy, her skin smooth, and her smile effervescent. Though her hair was duller, and her skin pierced by wrinkles, she was still beautiful, just a mature beautiful._

_ She smiled sadly at me, tears still falling, and said, "Hi, Balthy," using my old nickname._

_ "Hi, Veer," I said, using mine for her._

_ Then, wordlessly we embraced. I ran my fingers through her hair and tried to comfort her. "I'm sorry," I said, knowing that those words alone meant nothing._

_ "Me too," she repeated, hoarsely in my ear. "How's Peeta?"_

_ "As to be expected," I replied. "I suppose Katniss is the same, but I'll see in just a few minutes."_

_ "Thank you," she said, immensely. We let go and bid each other goodbye. The peacekeeper opened the door to let me in._

_When I walked in, Katniss' head was buried in the pillows, as though she was trying to block everything that was happening. When she realized someone was in the room with her, she looked up. Though I could tell she had cried no tears and her face remained a mask, I could see the rawness of sadness and pain on her face. When she saw that it was I, she looked surprised, but thankful nonetheless._

_ I sat in one of the chairs near to the couch she sat in. Though they were plush and velvet, I could not find any comfort in it. I pulled the package of cookies I had brought from the bakery and handed it to her._

_ She grabbed it and looked at the cookies wistfully. They were the best the bakery had, and probably something she'd never tasted before. It was awful that it took this occurrence to bring her this sweetness. _

_ "Thank you," she said, bringing one to her mouth and taking a tentative bite. _

_ "I had some of your bread this morning," she continues casually. "My friend Gale gave you a squirrel for it. Not your best trade."_

_ I shrugged. It wasn't about worth or value, the reasons why I traded with her and her friend. It was a matter of doing what was right and helping those in need. Besides, I actually did like squirrel._

_ No other words were spoken between us, because, well there was nothing for us to say. Again, I had no words to console, to alleviate pain, or takeaway hardship. But there was something in the silence that, in a way, was what we both needed._

_ When the peacekeeper came to tell me that it was time to go, I stood up and coughed. "I'll keep an eye on the little girl. Make sure she's eating."_

_ I knew as soon as I said it that it was true. I would do it if only because it would be cruel to let the little girl starve. But by the small smile Katniss gave me, I knew that it might be the only thing I could do to help her._

_-HG-_

From the moment Peeta's name escaped Effie's lips, numbness swept through me and dulled my senses. The scene in front of me turned black and white, as if I was watching a television with bad reception. Effie's manic voice came to me as though I was under water. A chill seemed to fill me and I couldn't understand why. Why was this happening?

By the time I snapped out of it, Peeta was already being led away from the stage. The thing that broke my trance was the sound of the heart-wrenching sob I heard emitted beside me. My wife was looking up at me, water pooling at the bottom of her clear blue eyes, her face contorting in sadness.

She quickly reached up to embrace me, squeezing my neck tightly all the while shaking. "I'm sorry, Rye," she said, breathily. "I'm so sorry, Rye."

I wrapped my arms around her waist and we went on crying into each other. The extent to which Thalia was crying was unexpected. Sure, Peeta was technically a part of her family and they had shared meals and laughs. But they had known each other for little over a year. Crying was expected, not sobbing, like Thalia was doing now.

I knew that those tears were not her own, but mine. They were the pain that I felt, that Thalia felt for me. They were the pain that one could only feel when you loved someone so much and they were hurting. She knew that losing Peeta would be hard for me that I would hurt and I would mourn and I had no idea how I would possibly get through it.

At the moment, it was hard to feel any loss at all. Peeta was standing right there, only minutes ago. He looked perfectly fine, perfectly healthy. I knew what the Hunger Games meant, and what they could do to people who were whole and healthy. But it was just so hard imagining a world in which Peeta did not exist.

And why should I have to imagine it? This didn't have to be the end. Sure, the odds didn't look good, but Peeta could defeat the odds if he wanted. If he tried and if luck was in his favor, he could win. It was slim and unlikely, but I'd rather imagine that, have some hope, than giving up from the start. There was just no point in giving up.

Gathering the courage and optimism that I had somehow found, I gave Thalia one last squeeze before letting her go. She looked at me with an expression full of sadness, pity, and confusion. I kissed her briefly on the mouth before pulling her into my side.

"C'mon," I said, my voice unrecognizable. "Let's go see him."

We walked silently, finding comfort in the other's touch, and made our way out of the square. Though we were at the edge where the viewers stood, there was still quite a bit of crowd left lingering and exiting the area. But when they saw us, they gave us a wide berth, shooting sorrowful glances in our direction. We stared straight ahead, tears still lingering on our faces.

We made it almost to the justice building when someone called us from behind. "Thalia! Uncle Rye! Wait!" We turned to see Thalia's sister, Terra, running furiously in our direction. In her haste, her frilly pink dress had been ruffled and her blonde hair that had been pulled back was now askew. We paused allowing her to catch up.

When she reached us, she bent over to catch her breath before looking up. I was surprised to see silent tears falling down her face. "Can I…Can I say goodbye to Peeta, too?"

Thalia bent down to embrace her sister, and said, "Of course." She kissed her on the cheek, before standing back up, holding her sister's hand. Thalia held out her other hand to me and together we strode into the justice building.

Once we went through the door, we were in an ornate building with high ceilings, thick dark purple carpet, and walls accented with gold designs. There were countless doors and halls that led off this main room, however there were two doors being guarded by a peacekeeper each. One door was labeled Male Tribute and the other Female Tribute.

A few of the kids from town lingered awkwardly outside of Peeta's door, murmuring quietly. I suppose they were debating whether or not to go inside, and what they would say if they did. I had never been in the position where one of my friends were chosen to go into the Hunger Games, so I had no idea how they were feeling.

Sadly, there was no one in front of Katniss' door, though I suppose there was someone inside. The area was nearly quiet and very solemn. When we approached Peeta's door, we were told to wait outside, so I figured my parents were still inside saying goodbye.

Nothing was said as we waited. Only few minutes later, though, the peacekeeper opened the door and ushered my parents out. My father was wearily brushing the tears from his eyes, and my mother wore a blank expression, her face composed, but grave.

My father placed a hand on my shoulder, and whispered, "Where's Bran?" But before I could even shrug we were ushered into the room.

The room was, like the foyer, very richly decorated and lavish.

There were a few chairs and couches scattered about the room, one on which Peeta was sitting, unabashedly crying. Thalia was the first to break the chain and go up to him.

Peeta stood to meet her and they hugged silently for a few minutes. "I'm glad to have known you," Thalia said, through her tears that had evidently restarted. "You are a great person, I thought I should let you know. Good luck."

"Thank you, Thalia," he said, releasing her. She kissed his cheek and quickly hugged him once more, before backing away. She touched my arm briefly, before running out of the room, clearly consumed by her emotions.

Terra walked up shyly, and Peeta got down on his knees to be at her level. "It's okay, Terra," he said, kissing her forehead and pulling her into a hug. "It's okay."

She cried onto his shoulder for a while before saying thickly, "I'll miss you, Uncle Peeta," and ran out of the room following her sister.

As the door closed with a thud behind her, leaving me and Peeta alone, I knew this would be my only time tell him what he needed to hear. I had to make this count.

"Rye " Peeta said, his voice breaking.

"Listen Peeta," I said. "This doesn't have to be goodbye. You can still win."

He started shaking his head. "LISTEN TO ME!" I shouted, and then took a moment to calm myself down. "Peeta, don't give up. Don't doubt yourself. If you play it smart, play to your strengths, use common sense, do whatever the hell it takes, you can make it back!"

"As good as that sounds, as much as I want to come back, as much as I don't want to die, I don't see that happening."

"PEETA!" I yelled. I couldn't help but loose my control, I was losing my baby brother for God's sake. "DON'T GIVE UP! PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP! PLEASE!"

"Rye!" he said, placing a hand on my shoulder trying to calm me down. "This isn't about me giving up or not trying, it's it's just the way it has to be."

"NO!" I roared, and fell uncontrollably crying into Peeta's embrace. "No…this can't be it!"

Peeta and I cried for a while, until the peacekeeper came to the door and signaled it was time for me to go. I made a final plea for Peeta to understand. "Please, Peeta…this doesn't have to be the end. The odds can be in your favor."

* * *

**A/N: Hey! So sorry that it's taken me so long for the next chapter but the past couple weeks have been hectic between the SAT, ACT, my senior research paper, and all my regents and finals. But i hoped you liked this chapter and didn't mind the overlaps and the shifts in time. The rest of the goodbyes will be next chapter which should be out soon. Reviews, suggestions, and criticisms are all accepted!**

** Thegoofybookworm****Thegoofybookworm- I know! My friend actually came up with that one! Thanks so much for reviewing!**

** Raissa- I wasn't planning on it, but i also wasn't planning on having anything in Mrs. Mellarks perspective...it's all subject to change, so i guess we'll see. **


	5. Chapter 5

_Part 1- Madge_

Part 2- Bran

**Part 3-Gale**

* * *

_I arrived in the Justice Building just in time to see the baker slip into the room designated for the female tribute. There were some kids I knew from school standing in front of Peeta's door, but other than that there was no one else in the room except for the peacekeepers. I was surprised that Gale wasn't here yet, since he was one of the first people out the square. I suppose that this was hard for him and he had to take a moment to compose himself. I'm sure he wouldn't let Katniss leave without saying goodbye._

_ I stood awkwardly outside of the door, waiting, my legs crossed at the ankle and my right hand rubbing the other arm. My whole body felt like decomposing and I wanted nothing more than to cry. But I knew that was the last thing Katniss to needed see, me crying when she was the one who had so much to face. Besides, I had something more important to do._

_ I had not been able to stop myself from crying when the scene had unfolded before me. I was in shock and the tears were automatic when they called Prim's name. Firstly, because Prim was the last person who should be in the arena, not that anyone should. But I also had a feeling that Katniss would volunteer for her sister, and she did not defy my expectations._

_ The thought of losing Katniss, the only person who kept me from being in a complete state of loneliness, the one who would defend me to Gale though she had no reason to, the person I called a friend, was heart breaking. The tears had come stronger as I saw her stride up to the stage with a defiant calmness and composure._

_ Seeing Katniss accept her fate with that much dignity, without showing any weakness or sadness, had made me feel ashamed of my tears. Why should I be crying when the tears did absolutely nothing? It wouldn't save Katniss nor would it make her feel any better about what was going to happen. When I saw Katniss to say goodbye I would not be a silly, blubbing girl who only could say those useless words 'I'm sorry' over and over. I wanted to do something that would matter, that would mean something to her._

_ But what could I do? I had thought. I had only average intelligence, and most people simply defined me as a 'nice girl'. How would being nice help anything? The only thing I was talented in was the piano, and so what would I do, play her a song? I didn't see how that would help anything._

_ Almost, absentmindedly, I had brushed my hand against the pin at my bosom, I suppose trying to draw inspiration from my Aunt Maysilee. That's when it had came to me. No, I myself couldn't do anything. But maybe Katniss could draw some strength and courage from a woman who had been in her shoes. I had known that my Aunt, even though I had never known her, would want me to do this._

_ Yes, that's what I would do, I had thought. I had brushed away my tears and forced back the ones that were struggling to break through. _

_ Thinking about my resolve to do something important for Katniss, I decided that it shouldn't end here. I was finished being just that useless, silly girl who happened to be the Mayor's daughter. I wanted to do something with my life, something essential. I just had to figure out what._

_ It was only a few minutes that I had to wait before the Peacekeeper went inside and escorted Peeta's father out. I thought it a bit odd that he had chosen to visit Katniss, when his son had been chosen as well. Well, he was a well-known man and nice to everyone, so I suppose he knew her and felt bad._

_ Taking a deep breath, I entered the room, walking straight for Katniss who was sitting on the couch opposite the door. "They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena. One thing to remind you of home. Will you wear this?" I held out the pin that I had already removed from my dress after making the decision to give it Katniss._

_ "Your pin?" she asked, clearly surprised at the offer. She looked at it closely._

_ "Here, I'll put it on your dress, all right?" I said, not going to allow Katniss to refuse my offer because of her pride. I had to do this. I carefully attached it to her dress, taking care not to prick her._

_ "Promise you'll wear it into the arena, Katniss?" I continued. "Promise?"_

_ "Yes," she said, after a pause, and I breathed in relief. _

_ But now that I had accomplished my task, now that I had done something significant for Katniss, I felt the tears threatening to come out again. I realized that this could very well be the last time I saw her and all I wanted to do was cry. But I told myself I wouldn't do it front of her._

_ So I quickly pecked her on the cheek and walked out of the room. Once I was out of the door, I ran trying to get away from the building as fast as I could. I had just reached the glass door when I ran straight into someone. But before I could tumble back they grabbed my waist and steadied me. I looked up to see that it was Gale._

_ For a moment we just looked at each other. His face was hazy in my veil of tears, but I could see that though his jaw was locked in determination and seriousness, there was sparkle of sadness in his dark gray eyes. Then as quickly as it had been there, it was coated over and didn't betray any emotion. He quickly let go of me, pushing me aside as he brushed past me._

_ As I left the building, I couldn't get that look in Gale's eyes out of my head. I knew that Gale was Katniss best friend, maybe even more, and though he was trying to hide it, he was hurting. I didn't know if he was close to anyone else the way he was with Katniss, but he would need someone. He couldn't keep the hurt all to himself._

_ Not sure why I was doing it, knowing that I was the last person he would accept anything, much less comfort from, I sat on the bottom step to wait for him. Maybe, just maybe, he would allow me to help him._

_-HG-_

"Get up."

It was the first time I recognized that the person whose arms were around me was a female. Her voice was strong, commanding, but still sympathetic and full of concern.

I was still kneeling on the ground, my face still buried in my hands, though my tears had since abated. The girl's arms had been wrapped awkwardly, but comfortingly around my waist, which meant that she had gotten on her knees as well.

Before now I had not thought the identity of the person who had chosen to comfort me instead of walking away, like everyone else had. I had been too immersed in my own guilt and sorrow to pay even the barest notice. But now, I couldn't help but wonder who she was.

She removed her arms from around me, and I got the impression that she stood up. The next thing I knew her hands were on my back and she shoved me so that I completely collapsed on the ground.

I pushed myself back up, and turned angrily to face whoever the hell it was. It was a girl, who looked around my age. Her blonde hair was wild and curly, falling down to the middle of her back. Her face was thin and pale, her lips small and pink, and her eyes wide, taking up the majority of her face, and a clear blue that seemed to be almost see through. Her lips were presently pursed in determination, but her eyes remained wide and imploring.

She stood with her weight on one leg, her hip cocked to the right, and her hands on both her hips. She was tall and willowy, with gentle curves shaping her body. Unlike most girls, she wasn't wearing a dress for the reaping, but a pair of skinny black dress pants and a short-sleeved white button up top.

Now, she wasn't beautiful, or even pretty, by any means. Her face was oddly proportioned and left a weird effect on the viewer. She seemed to be too skinny and her arms poked out awkwardly, long and gangly. But at another time, under different circumstances, I would've appreciated the way her pants hugged her slender curves and the way the shirt seemed to stretch across her moderately sized breasts. I would've tried to take a peek at the button that had been left open at the top of her blouse.

Now, though, I was angry and had no time to deal with silly girls. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She shrugged. "I'm just trying to knock some sense into you. The time to wallow, at least for the moment, has passed. This isn't just about you, you know? Have you forgotten the reason for all this? Have you forgotten Peeta?"

"Of course not!" I retorted, indignantly.

"Then what are you still doing here?" she countered. "He's the one that needs you."

"I can't face him," I said, looking down. I had no idea why I was explaining this to her, but the words poured out on their own accord. "Not after what I did, or well, didn't do."

"Who gives a shit?" she said, without compassion. "Certainly not Peeta, when he's in the arena thinking about how you didn't even care enough to say goodbye."

"I do care!" I yelled angrily. Who was she to tell me anything? Who was she to understand what I was going through?

"Then prove it! Stop being a coward and go to him! Get past your insecurities, and tell your brother that you love him, because you know you do despite what happened."

"You don't even know," I said, seething. "You don't even know what this is like! You expect me to go to my brother and tell him 'oh, yeah, I love you, but I'd rather save my own ass than yours.' You really expect me to be able to say that?"

"You know that's not how you feel," she said, walking closer to me, her tone softening. "It wasn't being selfish. It may not be selfless, but it wasn't selfish, and Peeta will know that."

"What do you know," I spat. "Nothing, that's what. Why don't you just leave me alone, okay? This doesn't have anything to do with you."

"Exactly!" she exclaimed. "And it doesn't have anything to do with you either! This is about Peeta! What he is going to go through in the coming week! When he's going to need to remember his family for support when he's not able to come with you. Are you really going to deprive your brother of that comfort?"

I didn't have an answer, so I just watched her tentatively. She walked until she was right in front of me. She was exactly my height and looked at me with a tenderness that had been previously removed from her expression. For one wild moment, I thought she was going to kiss me.

Instead, she placed a hand on my shoulder and spoke quietly. "And you're going to need it to. When you see him on that screen, and you feel hopeless and guilty, you're going to need to hold onto every moment you can of him. You will feel better knowing that you were able to say goodbye to the real him."

Then as quickly as this girl came, she was back to the abrasive and pushy one she'd been moments before. She squeezed my shoulder, causing me to cringe, before pushing me away. "Go," she said.

I stumbled forward a few steps, but couldn't help but look once more at her. "Go!" she repeated, impatiently. "Hurry up, before you miss your chance."

Turning my head away, I let her words hasten my pace and quicken my steps. I barely felt that asphalt beneath my feet as I ran faster than I ever had, almost flying, toward Peeta.

I turned out of the square and down the street, didn't stop at the stairs of the Justice Building, skipping three steps at a time, and burst through the door. The room passed by in a blur, as I ran straight ahead to the doors. I swiveled my hand back and forth, in haste trying to discern which door to go through. Though it was clearly labeled, it took me a few tries to read the signs and finally choose the one to the left.

I headed straight for the door, but the peacekeeper abstained me by grabbing my shoulder. Ignoring this, I shook it off and blocked his protests from my mind. I pushed through the door, the door ricocheting against the wall with a loud bang, that caused Peeta, who was sitting on the edge of the couch with his head in his hands, to look up.

"Rye!" he exclaimed in shock and standing up.

I walked right over to him and threw my arms around him. I couldn't help the tears from returning as I said, hoarsely, "I'm sorry, Peeta, I'm so fucking sorry!" I hoped that he could understand the extent I really was.

"Rye, I didn't want you to," he said, adamantly.

"Doesn't matter," I told him "I'm your older brother."

"Rye, I don't blame you, and I don't care. I would rather it this way, actually."

Suddenly, I felt the peacekeeper's arms around me, separating me from Peeta. He pulled me away and I struggled to break loose, though his hold was unrelenting. "PEETA!" I yelled. "STAY STRONG! STAY STRONG! I LOVE YOU!"

Peeta started to yell the sentiment back, but the door closing swallowed the sound. As soon as the peacekeeper let me go, I stalked away, distraught. I walked out of the building, and followed where my feet was talking me. I didn't realize I was going back to the square, until I was halfway there, and I automatically knew why. I wanted to see the girl.

I didn't know whether it was to confront her about her interest in me and what I did, and who the hell she was. But a part of me wanted to be held by her again, find comfort in her touch. Actually, I just wanted to see her again to confirm that she was real.

But by the time I got there, the square was completely empty.

-HG-

**I always wanted to hold Katniss the way I was holding her now. It was the kind of hug that hinted of more than friendship. Her head lay on my shoulder, her face turned into my neck so I could feel her warm breath on my neck and her arms tight around my waist. Though I had no right to feel this way when my best friend was headed into the games and there was no hope, my heart beat aloud and achingly for her. I should've been thinking of only farewells and Katniss' welfare, but I still wanted her and couldn't help but think that I would have no chance now.**

_**Focus, **_**I told myself. "Listen," I said, getting down to business and what really mattered at the moment. "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance."**

** "They don't always have bow," she said, and I could tell that a part of her had already given up. That was unacceptable.**

** "Then make one," I retorted, trying to make her see that she had to win. That **_**I**_** needed her to win. "Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all."**

** "I don't even know if there'll be wood." I wanted to shake all of those doubts out of her. It was as if she wanted to lose, as if she wanted to worm her way out of trying.**

** "There's almost always wood. Since that year that almost everyone died of cold. Not much entertainment in that." Nope, the Capitol liked their deaths brutal and bloody, those sick bastards.**

** "Yes," she said, finally agreeing with me. "There's usually some."**

** "Katniss," I continued. I needed her to see that she could win this. I knew she could. "It's just hunting. You're the best hunter I know."**

** "It's not just hunting," she said, back to disagreeing with me. "They're armed. They think."**

** "So do you. And you've had more practice. Real practice. You know how to kill."**

** "Not people," she contradicted.**

** No, not people. But in the technical sense, it was exactly the same the same movements, the same aim, the same target. And if she forced herself to forget, to just do those same familiar movements, it would be exactly the same. **

** "How different can it be, really?" I said, trying to ease her into it. She would have to get used to the idea if she really was going to try to win. But killing people, she probably didn't want to do it more than I didn't want to see her do it. But sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. **

** The door opened then, and a peacekeeper stepped in. "Time's up," he said, stoically, not caring that the girl right in front of him, the girl that I loved, was practically being sent to the slaughterhouse like a pig.**

** "Can I please just have five more minutes," I asked, though I knew the request was pointless.**

** He shook his head, mechanically, and grabbed hold of my arm. As he pulled, I desperately held on to Katniss' hand and stared at her beautiful face, hoping it was not the last time.**

** "Don't let them starve!" she cried out, holding my hand just as tightly.**

** "I won't! You know I won't!" Then my lips moving without thought, I started to say what I always wanted to. "Remember I "**

** But they managed to tear me from her right at that moment and I was out of the door before the rest of the statement could be uttered. **_**I love you. **_**It was my last opportunity, and now she would never know.**

** Up to this point I had not cried, or showed any emotion, really. When they called Prim's name I already knew that Katniss was going to volunteer, so there was no shock to it. It was what I would've done if they called Rory's name. Katniss and I were alike in that way we did whatever the hell it took to protect our family. **

** I was mostly angry, then. So hot that I walked all the way to the edge of the woods, my mind completely freaking out, when I left the square as soon as we could leave. I screamed out all my frustrations and anger until my voice went hoarse. Then I sucked back all emotions, my anger, sadness, everything, and put on a strong face. I walked over to the Justice Building, ready to face Katniss.**

** But at this moment I wanted to crumple. I wanted to go to my bed and never get out. The emotion was familiar, reminiscent to when my father had just died. But I held back and instead the emotion shifted to that of anger. Anger at the Capitol and the Hunger Games and the whole fucking country of Panem. Anger was easier to deal with, easier to manipulate than sadness and crying. I'd rather be angry than anything else.**

** I stormed out of the building only to see a familiar white dress and blonde hair sitting on the bottom step. Her shoulders were hunched over and she was evidently crying. I flashed back to only a few minutes ago, when she had run into me when I walked into the Justice Building. Her face was crumpled in distraught and I couldn't help but think that she was still pretty when she cried.**

** But I didn't care. At the moment, she was the perfect target.**

** I strode right up to her and she looked up. I sneered and laughed bitterly. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the girl who has all the odds in her favor."**

* * *

**A/N: That's chapter five! Reviews, suggestions, criticisms-all are accepted! I hope you enjoyed**

**Thanks to Raissa and It's Mellarkable for reviewing!**


	6. Chapter 6

Part 1-Madge

_**Part 2-Mrs. Mellark**_

**Part 3- Gale**

* * *

My head snapped up when I saw feet through the cracks in my hand, surprised because I had not even heard footsteps. Gale stared down at me with his lips curled in a snarl and the bitterest of expressions.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the girl who has all the odds in her favor?" he sneered, with a malicious laugh.

"What?" I said, taken aback, my eyes still shaded by tears.

"You heard me. Funny how it ended up being Prim whose name got called. Eleven years old, one slip, and she get's called. She lost her father, leaves in the grimiest part of the seam and now she get's to lose her older sister. "

"I know, it's horrible," I started, trying to make him see reason. "But that's not my fault! I didn't choose to have Prim's name be called, and I sure as hell didn't want it to! You think I'm happy about the fact that Katniss is going into the Hunger Games?"

"What I know is that you get to go back to your big mansion with your rich daddy and skip around with no worries and no troubles, you stupid, little girl!"

I couldn't help but get riled up. "Do you think these tears are fake," I shouted, standing up in an attempt to commandeer respect. Only, he was still so much taller than me. "Do you think that I'm sitting here, distraught, because I'm _happy _that _I'm _not going into the games? You can't be that dim. And last time I checked, you're name wasn't called either. I don't see you yelling at yourself!"

"Because, unlike you, I don't have the luxury of only worrying about myself! Because of this, I have not four but six mouths to worry about feeding before I can even think about myself! Not only that but I lost my hunting partner, so I have to do more of the work with less of the help. Do you understand what that means? That means getting up at four instead of five to hunt for four hours before school, which I will probably have to drop out of soon enough. That means I will have to hunt for who know how long afterwards. And I can't even take out tesserae anymore, because that was my last drawing and there's no way in hell I'm going to let Rory or Prim take any out! My troubles have only multiplied, so don't talk about me!"

I took a deep breath to calm myself, because he was right about that. I remembered why I had stayed out here in the first place and took a step closer to him. "I'm sorry," I said. "If there's anything I can do to help "

"What makes you think I want your pity, much less your help?" he said, his tone derisive, taking a step back. "Besides, what can you possibly do for me? I sure as hell don't want your money, and other than that you're completely useless. You can't do anything worthwhile, so don't bother with your empty promises."

Even though I had thought it of myself earlier, it still hurt to hear it coming from Gale's mouth contemptuously and to know that people had the same opinion of me. I didn't know why I was so quick to anger around Gale, why he riled me up to the point where I was defensive and argumentative. But he did. I couldn't help myself from snapping back at him.

"Shut up!" I shouted. "Shut the hell up, Gale, because you don't know me or my life. You have absolutely no right to look down on me and tell me what I am worth! God, I have never met a more conceited, egotistical, cocky, arrogant "

"ME?" he roared, bending down to sneer at me. "Egotistical? Cocky?"

"YES!" I shouted back. "You've got you're head so far up your ass that you have no idea how much of a bully and a thug you really are." I had gone far past logical reasoning, to personal attacks. "You have absolutely no redeeming qualities that have anything to do with being an actual person! Sure, you can hunt and find food in the woods, but what does that really require? A pair of muscles and a bow?"

"That's not true!" he said. "It requires technique and strategy and patience and "

"Patience? Really?" I said, mockingly. "Because last I checked, your patience was about the size of a pea. Just admit that you're all brawn, and no brain. You have no wit, no charm, and no mental capacity so to speak of. So go ahead and wield your bow and arrows, because honey, you've got nothing else going for you."

I knew as the words were coming out that they were unfounded and had no basis of truth. But in my anger I couldn't help the words from spilling out or even to take them back. I just wanted him to know that his words hurt people and that he had no right to do so.

He stared at me dumbfounded and wrathful. His next words were clipped and spoken as if I were a little girl. "Do you have any idea the courage and the pure nerve it takes to do what I do? It's not just about muscle it's about having spirit and bravery. And if you don't believe me, well, I'd tell you to ask Katniss, because she's the one who's with me every day in the woods."

I had nothing to say to that. "And you talk about me being 'all brawn and no brain?' Well, I guess that makes you all brain and no brawn. I bet you couldn't last one minute in the woods without freaking out and going home. I bet if you had to, for some reason, fend for your family, you wouldn't be able to wrestle up any food. I bet you couldn't shoot something with a bow if it was already dead and sitting right at your foot."

"That's different," I said, searching for a reason. "I've never tried that before, but I'm sure if I did and learned, I would be able to do it, maybe not as well as you, but adequately."

"Oh yeah?" he said, disbelieving.

"Yeah," I shot back. "Whereas you are incapable of doing anything that requires you to be creative and think expansively and be more than a a hardheaded ass!"

"Really, now?" he said, surprisingly calm, folding his arms in front of his chest. He leaned against the railing of the stairs and looked down on me. "Then why don't we have a little…agreement?"

"Agreement?"

"Wager, Bet, gamble, whatever you want to call it," he clarified. "We each have to prove that the other is more one sided than the other, understand."

I thought about it for a moment. In that moment I saw the smug expression Gale would have if I backed down. "Deal," I said without further thought.

"Deal," he agreed.

-HG-

_**I fell in love with Balthar the first moment I saw him. I was only thirteen at the time, and it was only an infatuation, but it persisted until, well, now, I suppose. My father had asked me to go to the bakery to pick up some pastries for some important dinner guests we were having over that night.**_

_** Now, it hadn't been my first time to the bakery but it had been my first time going alone. I don't know if that made the difference, made me more aware, rather than just impatient to get whatever treats my father bought. I had never, in the past, paid attention to the baker or any of the kids that were running around. I don't know if it would've left any impression on me even If I had. It also may have been the fact that I was older, going through puberty, and suddenly noticing boys as more than just other kids.**_

_** On that day I walked casually down the winding road that led from my house to the bakery in the square. I took little notice of what was around me, the brightness of the sun, the blueness of the sky, the greenness of the grass. It was perfect summer day, yet all I thought was to go to the bakery and return with a pastry for desert. Nothing more.**_

_** I entered the bakery, a bell dinging to signal my entrance. There was no one else in the shop, no customers at least. I guessed that the baker and his sons were in the back or in the apartment that was above. I waited patiently for someone to service me, staring at the pretty cookies and cakes that were on display.**_

_** "Good afternoon, how can I help you?" **_

_** I looked up to see that a boy, around my age, perhaps older, had stepped out of the back. I was shocked into silence by his handsomeness. His blonde hair was wavy and slicked back, his face rectangular with a strong jaw, his nose straight and perfectly offsetting his face, and his eyes a light blue, sparkling and light. I couldn't help myself from smiling, despite myself, and my heart seemed to be pounding louder in anticipation. Anticipation of what, though, I couldn't help but think.**_

_** "What would you like?" he repeated, kindly, even though I was staring like an idiot and was wasting his time. **_

_** "Um, can I have the chocolate cake?" I said, saying the first thing that came to mind.**_

_** "Sure," he said. "Just a slice or the whole thing?"**_

_** "Entire thing."**_

_** He nodded. "Coming right up."**_

_** He disappeared into the back again, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. What was with me? Why was I acting so strange and unnatural? But I still felt strangely nervous knowing that he would be coming back. I straightened my summer dress and studied myself in the reflection of the display glass. I found a million things wrong with my image that I hadn't noticed before: the dullness of my hair, the slight unevenness of my eyes, the thinness of my lips, the paleness of my skin. **_

_** When he returned I quickly looked up from where I was looking, hoping he didn't notice any of the odd faces I was making in my makeshift mirror. He was holding the cake in a white box closed with string. He handed it over the counter to me and calculated my total.**_

_** "That's twenty one oh two," he said, clicking a few buttons on the cash register. I opened my purse to take out the correct bills and handed it to him. He put it into the cash register and returned a couple bills and some loose change to me, our hands accidently brushing in the process.**_

_** "Thank you," I said, tucking away the bills.**_

_** "No problem," he said. "Have a nice day."**_

_** There was my cue to leave, but I didn't want to go. There was something about this boy that made me want to stay, his handsome face, the polite, casual way he spoke, he sure movements as he maneuvered around the bakery. **_

_** "What's your name," I blurted out, instead.**_

_** "Um," he said, clearly caught off guard. "Blathar. Blathar Mellark."**_

_** "I'm Merope Deron," I replied. "How old are you?"**_

_** "Fourteen, though I'll be fifteen in a month." There was an awkward pause before he said, "And you?"**_

_** "Thirteen," I replied. I realized that I had overstayed my welcome and that it would be in my best interest to leave. "Um, well goodbye."**_

_** "See you," he nodded, with a smile.**_

_** I left the shop and made my way back to my house. And though it was the same road that I had traveled to get there, and had walked down many times, it was different, almost magical. I saw the deep blueness of the sky, the vibrant greenness of the grass, and the blinding brightness of the sun. The day was blissful and, for the moment, so was I.**_

_**-HG-**_

** The idea of Madge going into the woods was just ludicrous, even more mind-boggling than the sight of twelve-year old Katniss looking at my traps. But, hell, if she thought she could do it, who was I to tell her no? Besides, she took a shot at hunting she thought it didn't take any thought or skill. She'd be proven wrong, if it was the last thing I did. And it'll be funny as hell to see her try and rough it up in the woods. She had absolutely no idea what she was getting into.**

** How she got it in her head that I wasn't able to do anything "smart" or something that required brains was beyond me, but she was dead wrong. I mean, if Madge could do it, then I sure as hell could. The other thing was that she messed with my pride when she said all those things about me. I didn't want to let it get to me, but it did. But we'd have this little contest and she'd see once and for all that I was right and she was wrong.**

** We started to wander past the Justice Building, walking aimlessly down the road. We hadn't said anything since we made the decision to make this deal. We silently walked next to each other, unsure of what to say to each other.**

** "Um," I started, and she looked up at me questioningly. "Let's set the rules and terms and stuff."**

** She nodded. "Okay, so how should we do this…you have me do something to prove that I can be brawny and I have you do something to prove that you can be brainy."**

** "We each give the other one task to complete. Whoever doesn't complete it loses."**

** "Well, that's not technically fair," she said after a pause.**

** "Giving up already, Madge?"**

** "No," she said with a defiant gaze. "I'm just saying that, let's say for argument sake, you want me to wrestle down a pig "**

** "There are no pigs in the woods, it isn't a farm," I pointed out.**

** "This is a hypothetical situation," she said, rolling her eyes. "There's no way I'd be able to do that right away."**

** "So you are giving up," I clarified.**

** "No. Will you listen for a second? I'm not saying that I can't do it "**

** "So you're saying that you can wrestle a pig?" I asked skeptically.  
Oh, I'd love to see that."**

** She fixed me with a glare, her lips pursed. I made a show of zipping my lips, causing her to roll her eyes and shake her head. "I'm not saying that I can't do it," she continued, "But I'd have to have time to learn how, figure out what to do. So it wouldn't be fair to just hand me a pig and tell me to wrestle it, because of course I wouldn't be able to. Understand?**

** "And what if I asked you to, oh I don' t know, portray an accurate dramatization of Othello's tragic suicide without completely butchering the poetry of Shakespearian recitation."**

** "Who says I can't?" I challenged. I mean reading Shakespeare, how hard could that possibly be. I was going to win this easy. **

** "Tell me," she said, cynically. "What is Iambic Pentameter?"**

** "How the hell should I know? What does that have to do with anything?"**

** "Oh, how you prove my point so nicely," she said, her voice coated with a fake sweetness.**

** "Whatever," I said. "I get it. So what do you propose?"**

** "Like you said, we each get a task. And it can be whatever; as long as it isn't so unreasonable that even you can't do it. But I say we get like a week, or an amount of time to prepare, and then like whoever proves to be better wins."**

** "Two questions," I said after thinking about it for a moment. "First, how are we going to decide who wins, I mean I could say I did better and you could say that you did better and then what?"**

** "We can ask someone to judge, I guess." She suggested. "But it can't be anyone close to either of us. They have to be completely unbiased and impartial."**

** "You have any ideas?" I asked.**

** "Um, not right now, but I guess we can figure that out when the time comes. What was your second question?"**

** I smiled. "What do we get if we win?"**

** "Bragging rights?" she suggested, with a shrug.**

** "Oh, c'mon," I said. "Let's have some real incentive, here. Unless…you're afraid."**

** "Fine," she said, clearly offended. "How about the loser has to become personal slave to the winner."**

** I nodded. "And we can make**_** her**_** do anything?" **

** "Yes, we can make **_**him**_** do whatever we want, no matter how humiliating or degrading."**

** "Are you sure you're up for this?" I asked. Oh, I would show this rich bitch exactly how it feels to be on the opposite side of the spectrum.**

** "Are **_**you**_** sure?" she countered.**

** "Well…since I am going to win, I have nothing to worry about."**

** "We'll see about that," she said, with another roll of the eye and a smirk. "So what is going to be, one week to prepare?"**

** "You really think you're going to learn to wrestle a pig in one week? You know, the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of that."**

** "Remember you have to be able to do it yourself," she said, smiling. "So…if you really want to wrestle the pig…"**

** I waved her off. "So how about two weeks?" she suggested.**

** "Two weeks it is," I agreed, and then I had a thought. "But no outside help."**

** She brushed her hair back from her shoulder and tilted her head. "I hadn't even thought of that. But, to be fair, how are we supposed to learn these things on our own?"**

** "How about we each get one training sessions from the other," I said. "We actually have to show the other what to do, and how to do it correctly. After that, we're on our own."**

** "That's alright with me," she said. "And if either of us get's outside help that person automatically loses."**

** "Yeah, and remember, you can give up at any time. But you still have to go through with the punishment."**

** "Not likely to happen," she said, "But you can remember that, for yourself."**

** I scoffed before asking, "Is that everything? Well, other than setting the tasks." **

** "Um, yeah, I guess," she said, after a moment of contemplation. "But first, let's swear to the terms."**

** I couldn't think of any objection to that so I held out my right hand. She held out her hand and grasped mine. Her hands were soft and small in my calloused ones, mine easily wrapping around hers. **

** "I swear to abide by all the terms," she said, solemnly, looking deep into my eyes.**

** "I swear to abide by all the terms," I repeated, not able to take my eyes away from hers.**

** We stood like that for a moment, just staring into the other's eyes, daring the other to look away. She was the first to lower hers and look at our intertwined hands. I chuckled at how easily she broke, and removed my hand from hers. This was going to be too easy. **

** "So, um, when?" she asked after a moment's silence.**

** "How about now," I said. "I'll start." **

** Without waiting for her agreement, I stalked off knowing she would follow. I turned down the next road, a dirt path that was a shortcut I often took after school. Our wanderings now had a direction, and in my mind I thought about what exactly I should ask of her. Definitely something to do with hunting…but what?**

** "Gale!" I heard her shout from behind me. Her footsteps followed after mine, three for every one of mine. "Gale, wait!"**

** I just kept walking, loving the lead I had over her. "C'mon, Gale, we can't honestly start this now."**

** I turned around, but continued to walk backwards. "Why?" I said, mockingly. "Afraid? Giving up?"**

** "No!" she said, and stumbled forward, her feet tangling in one another, barely able to keep from falling. She was not going to last one minute in the woods.**

** I just chuckled and turned back around. I made a couple more turns before ending up at the expanse of green grass and the fence that was bordered the woods. I walked up to the gate and listened to see if the current was on, and like most times, it was off.**

** "Gale," she said, when she caught up to me. She took a moment to take a few deep breaths, her catching up to me evidently having been vigorous exercise. "Gale, we can't do this now."**

** "Tell me why not?" I challenged. She bit her lip and glanced at the woods peeping out behind that gate. She swallowed and looked back at me.**

** "I'm not dressed for it," she declared. I looked down to see that she was still wearing that fancy white dress she had worn for the reaping. **

** "Excuses," I dismissed, even though I knew she was right.**

** "This can't possibly be fair!" she said. "And…and…." She looked at the sky as though it was going to deliver answers. Suddenly she looked back at me wearing a petrified expression. "Do you see the time, Gale? It's almost sunset!"**

** "What, you don't want to be in the woods at night?" I continued to belittle her, even though it had taken me a while to work up the courage to go into the woods at night.**

** "No!" she said. "The reaping's going to start soon. We can't miss that."**

** "Oh…" I said, and looked up. The sky was fading from the blue it was this morning to a darker gray, indicating the passing of the time.**

** I suddenly felt guilty about forgetting. I was here making silly bets with Madge and running about without a care when Katniss….Katniss was probably going through hell. And it was true that we had to watch the reaping…. everyone did. I owed Katniss that much. If she had to go through this, I had to at least watch it.**

** I was sorry that I had let Madge distract me. I closed my face off to her when I looked at her next. "Fine," I said, and promptly left her standing there. **

** "Wait Gale!" she said, and unwillingly turned around.**

** "We're…" she said, biting her lip. 'We're still on for this right."**

** I was torn. I shouldn't be doing this. I should be solely focused on Katniss and providing for our families. But I couldn't bring myself to renege on our deal, even though I told myself that it wouldn't matter. I wanted to do this, if only to prove Madge wrong.**

** "Hell yeah," I said.**

** She smiled. "Good. For a second I thought you were going to give up already." **

** "Not a chance." I turned to leave again, but found myself turning back. "Good luck, Madge."**

** "Oh please," she said, waving me off. "You're the one who's going to need all the luck in your favor."**

* * *

**A/N: And there goes another chapter! I hope you enjoyed! Suggestions, Criticisms, Reviews-all are welcome!**

**Thank you so much for the many reviews last chapter! I absolutely loved every single one and it makes me so happy to know that you guys are loving this story as much as i love writing it! So, thanks to:**

barbarella-1980

CatchingSparks

Izzybellawella

Raissa

Indyracer715

It's Mellarkable


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